Hetalia Oneshots
by ludwigsgirl97
Summary: Fairly simple, a collection of Hetalia oneshots. GerIta, FrUK, GiriPan, and anything else that gets requested. Rated M for a reason.
1. GerItaKubelwagon

A/N- So this is just a series of one-shots of many different Hetalia couples, and I will be accepting any couple that you guys want me to write. Mostly, unless I get requests, I'll be writing my fave couples:GerIta, GiriPan, Commielove, and FRUK. Thanks for reading, and I hope you review and request.

This is an idea I got after watching the Germany Kubelwagon scene in the dub, so it is what it is.

Germany sat on his knees, not believing what had just occurred. He was just thinking that Italy had rigged the engine to boil water for pasta, but instead the fool had launched himself in an ejector seat that had no parachute. He had shot off until Germany could no longer see him, undoubtedly a lethal height to fall from. He sobbed, wishing that he had at least been kinder to the little guy. After all, he had known that he was useless at war when they had become friends and allies, so it wasn't as if that was some unexpected variable. He was far to effeminate to be a real soldier, but he had even heard that he'd stood up to England once for his brother, though the Brit was what he feared most. He had come to the rescue in every way that didn't involve violence, and he clenched his fist. He wished he had kept that letter Italy had written him, or the pictures he drew him on the margins of the papers he did during training. Or that he had thanked him for making dinner instead of yelling at him for making a mess, when he knew damn well that making food that good was just a messy affair, and considering the amount he made, it wasn't that big a mess.

But most of all, he wished that he had shared his feelings for the Italian. He loved him, and not in a brotherly manner. He really, truly was in love with him, even if he did make him want to claw his eyes out. He was just so sunny, and he brought light into his dark, lonely world. Now that sun was gone over something so trivial, and he couldn't take it. He no longer knew how to live without a bubbly Italian hounding his every step, and calling on him for help. Or how to sleep without that sun kissed body stretched out beside him, as much as he claimed to hate it. If he really didn't want Italy in his bed, he wouldn't have bought a double bed, or continued leaving his extra key in the same place, or getting right back into that bed rather than the four spares in his large house. Really, for someone as smart as he was, there was no reason for the Italian to always be with him, other than he wanted him there. He was just to gruff to admit it. But he swore that, should God ever give him another chance, he would tell that little guy how he felt, and he would make him understand. He didn't hate him, or even really think him to be annoying, simply that he was different, and Germany was infatuated with that uniqueness, the perfection that was Italy. But he thought that he'd never get to tell him any of this now, unless the dead really could hear your prayers. After about twenty minutes, he found the strength to stand and head home. He was making downing beer after beer when his door flew open. He looked behind him to see what he thought to be an apparition.

"I-Italy?" he said, getting up and walking over to the surprised looking man.

"Diotsu, is something wrong?" He asked quirking a brow.

"But, you flew into the sky. I watched it, you should be dead." The German rambled.

"I know, but I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I was stuck in a tree with Prussia's bird chirping beside me. Half and hour later, some guy walked by and saved me." Germany also decided that if it was in fact his brother who had saved Italy, he owed him very much. But there was that promise, and it's not a very good idea to lie to God.

"I need to talk to you, Italy." He said, color rising to his cheeks.

"ve~?"

"I should have told you this before, but...I love you, Italia." He said, looking at the nation in the eyes, which wee wide open.

"R-really?" He asked, his breath coming a little bit faster.

"Ja. I do, Italia. I just needed you to know that." He said, looking at him with longing, and he was surprised when, instead of being repulsed and running away, Italy wrapped him in a hug. He smiled and returned it.

"Te amo, Diotsu." He whispered, hot air hitting the shell of the taller nation's ear and causing him to shiver.

He pulled away, and just looked at those caramel eyes for a moment, before feeling that the mood was right, and placing a shy kiss on the smaller nations lips. Only a slight brush, but it was enough, and he was shocked why arms snaked around his broad shoulders and around his neck, and pulled him in closer. This was actually more strength than he thought the Italian had, and in this shock, his mouth opened just a little. Italy licked the small opening, not really knowing what he was doing, but deciding that it felt right.

"My tummy feels weird, Diotsu" He panted, clenching the hair at the nape of Germany's neck.

"Does this do anything to it, Italia?" He moved his mouth to suck on his neck, causing the little man to jerk forward, poking his hardened dick into the taller nation's thigh.

"Si, that feels good."They both blushed, and Germany pulled away completely, and turned, gesturing for Italy to follow him upstairs to his room. Like a lost puppy, he did so, not knowing what it was he actually needed, but somehow feeling confidant that Germany could give it to him.

With red faces, the two fell onto the large bed, a tangle of needy limbs. Germany rolled them around until he was over top, and ripped the button up shirt his lover was wearing open, sending little pieces of plastic everywhere. Brown eyes opened in shock at the display, and then lidded themselves, as agile little fingers undid the top's buttons on by one. Kissing each newly exposed section of flesh, pale and smooth, with a small amount of hair on the chest between perfectly developed pectorals

As the white cotton was flung into the dark of the bedroom, Germany sat up, examining his prize.

"You're beautiful, Italia." He said, looking at the little nation with hungry eyes.

"Thank you, Diotsu." he mewled, squirming and causing glorious friction between the two.

"How far do you want to go?" he asked, not wanting to do more than the brunette was willing to do.

"I don't know, but if I don't like it, I'll tell you to stop." he assure the blonde, who shook his head.

"You'll like it when I do it, but you may not like it afterward. Set a limit, so that doesn't happen."

"I trust you, Diotsu. Whatever you want to do is okay with me. I won't have regrets." He said, pulling the more manly one down for a passionate kiss. Germany took this as a full OK and pushed his tongue into that waiting mouth with rough fire. He reached down and grabbed Italy's pant button and fiddled with it until it came loose, pulling the jeans from him reveling yellow boxers. He pulled off his own slacks, underneath being the red underwear that was a gift from Italy for Christmas.

He pulled off their shoes, and threw everything but their underwear into the darkness as well, intent only on the touch of the other. As he slid the yellow fabric down, he did it with the care of a priest polishing a sacred object, and his mouth began to water.

Italy's breathing sped up when pink lips covered his throbbing member, and he involuntarily bucked his hips like a bull. Germany accommodated, taking in all of the average sized Italian, and it was a matter of minutes before he came in a series of twitches, and lay tired on the bed, completely spent. He was a virgin, after all.

He felt bad as he fell asleep realizing that Germany had never gotten any attention, but he drifted off before he could do anything about it.

Germany was sleeping, after completing himself in the bathroom, when he felt hands on top of him. He opened his eyes to find Italy's fingers roaming his body, and his mouth placing small kisses everywhere. He decided to just watch for a while, and was rewarded for his patience. As he became hard again, the kisses started to move lower, to his large rod, which had apparently been poking Italy in the ribs this entire time. He gripped the sheets, as that big mouth of Italy's descended upon him, and he groaned, biting back a full on shout.

"I want to hear you." Italy said, using his Latin tongue to do incomprehensible things to Germany's vital regions. He panted and shouted as he filled Italy's mouth a little while later. Italy sat up, licking a small drop from his lip. Germany stared at the roof for a moment, eyes wide and still breathing heavily. Then he got up, tackling Italy from one side of the bed to the other, taking his mouth roughly, tongue shoving into the smaller man's mouth with no warning or finesse. He pulled away and stood, running buck naked into the bathroom, coming out with a bottle of lotion before the other could even ask him what he was doing. He had a seductive grin on his face, and Italy was turned on further just by that face. He never got to see anything but Germany's usual mask of indifference, and this was a definite positive turn of events. He was pulled out of these thoughts when he felt a finger covered in lotion probing his hole. He gasped as it went in, and Germany placed his mouth on his right nipple, his left hand massaging it's twin. He began squirming like a dog getting it's belly scratched, and biting his lower lip.

"If you won't talk, I'll make you." Germany said, his voice even lower than before. He took his mouth from Italy's chest and wrapped his tongue around the curl protruding from the mass of tousled auburn hair. Italy shouted and arched his back, while a second finger was added to his ass.

He was moving franticly, close to release once again. Suddenly, Germany stopped, and sat up. Italy looked at him as if the devil himself had appeared on his forehead, and he received only a smirk in return.

"Why would you stop like that, Germany?" He asked, pouting.

" I can't have you cumming just yet, Mein Italien." He said cockily.

"You're mean, Germany." He complained, giving puppy-dog eyes. Blue eyes rolled and he gently placed a third finger, stretching him further.

"I never could say no to that face." He nearly growled his voice was made so low with lust. His curl was pulled into his mouth, and fingers were replaced with the real prize. Italy dug his manicured nails into Germany's back, and the pain only spurred him on, causing him to be a little rougher than he wanted to be, But Italy never told him to stop. They moved together in a dance old as time, until the music of lust ended in an abrupt chorus of grunts and moans.

They lay beside each other, not even bothering to clean up, and the music of love on an eternal repeat.


	2. ChinaLeich request

This is a request, and it is China and Liechtenstein (Eva), so thank you to the requester, and here it is!

Yao had moved to America from China when he was a child. At ten years old, his father had been injured in a factory acendent, something quite common in a nation that put the economy above safety, and his mother had died when he was an infant. His Uncle invited them to come stay with him in a land that had more opportunity, and so the son of an injured factory worker managed to get into a good college only on his intelligence. Not that he was one of those people who thought that the only thing that mattered was school, no he realized that there was more to life, he just loved the opportunity he had been given.

In middle school, he had become friends with a boy named Vash, who's grandparents were Swiss. He had an adopted baby sister named Eva, well, he called her his baby sister. She was only two years younger than him. Through high school, he had focused more on school, and never really had a girlfriend, though that one creepy guy followed him into the gym locker room sometimes, even though he never dressed out. His name was Ivan, and he refused to take off his scarf. He did however develop a crush on his best friends quite, shy, and wonderful little sister.

Now he was twenty, and she was a freshman at the same school he attended, in the tech department, where he was in the law part of the campus. They were right next to each other, and this made him quite happy. She still lived with her brother, an Olympic archer and shooter. basicly, if it could kill stuff at long range, Vash was a master. It just so happened that he had to head to the summer Olympics in London, leaving his newly adult sister at home by herself. He had planned to ask her to the going away dance the college had, but that wouldn't work. Her brother was far to protective and didn't let her leave the house, except for groceries, when he was out of town. This was very out of town, and he had almost not gone, until he had promised his blonde friend that he wouldn't allow anything to happen to the innocent young woman.

"Hey, Eva." He said, arriving at her and Vash's house right outside the campus, so that Vash could get to her easily should something happen, to see the brother off.

"I'm serious, Yao. If anything happens to my sister I'll never shoot again, except at the one who hurts her, understand?" He stressed by shaking his performing gun. The Chinese man nodded, scared even though he had never actually been on the opposite end of the other man's anger.

"Nothing will happen. She's safe with me." He only trusted Yao because of their age-old bond, and even then he was cautious.

"I know, She's just so naive sometimes. Stay with her, and don't let her talk to strangers, or wild animals." He said before heading out, looking back about fifty times.

"Big brother thinks I'm still a kid." She said, smiling at him.

"Well, I suppose that's better than the other way around. Being treated like an adult before you are one."

"I know. I love that he's so protective, it just bugs me sometimes that he works so hard and then I don't do anything."

"You're doing one of the most rigorous tech courses in the world, I think you put in enough work, Eva." He said, and reached into his bag. He had a ton of DVD s, every season of Meerkat Manor ever aired, as well as any documentary about pandas he could find. Yes, they both shared a love of cute things, even though Yao thought that Vash's drawings sucked. It may have been because he was friends with Feliciano, the best artist in their high school He was so good that they let him teach AP art as a junior, when it was a senior class.

"Yay! I was hoping you would bring those." She clapped her hands together, even her exclamations quite.

"I also brought Shinatty-chan!" He said, a gift from the kid he help in the big brother program. A Japanese immigrant, the little boy, Kiku, was simply adorable, and it was quickly decided that he would be the best mentor. It was a stuffed cat, originally with no mouth, but his father had thought it weird and drew on on it anyway. He had pouted for weeks, and his father had called him a sissy for caring about things that were so girly. It was often a subject of debate amongst his father and himself, as their uncle had turned out to be gay, and his father thought that Yao may have been picking up these habits. He argued that gayness wasn't contagious, and he just happened to have an appreciation for cute things.

"I love that little cat! You think I could get one, too?" she asked, smiling up at him with her sea foam eyes sparkling. His tan skin blushed, and he nodded.

"I'm sure at the very least I could find you one on the internet." He said, and she smiled brighter.

"Let's go look right now. Unless you'd rather do something else." she stopped realizing that she was being pushy. He could think of several things he wanted to do, but he didn't think she, nor her brother, would approve.

"Sure." He said instead, following her to the computer room. It was a small bedroom that she had converted into a techy's sanctuary. It was covered in expensive looking electronics, from monitors to hundreds of wires. He didn't want to go near it, not knowing how to work any of it properly. He and technology had never gotten along, with him constantly breaking anything past basic computers that he tried to use. He still had a flip phone, because he didn't want to spend money on an i-phone only to break it, and his laptop still ran on office 2000 because he didn't want to have to learn how to use a new one.

She turned on what he assumed was just a regular computer, but with so many flashing lights, he wasn't sure if any of them were close to normal. He felt like he was in a Star-Trek episode, and he was the primitive species that still hunted with pointy sticks for a living. The screen came up on E-bay, and she did find a stuffed cat nearly identical to his, only with the mouth still missing. He put in his debit card number, and she was happier than he had ever seen her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and thanked him. He blushed and, then walked away.

They watched the movies he had brought about a hundred times in the time her brother was away. School had ended, and now they were home all day. He stayed with her because his friend was worried about her if a bugler were to break in. The dance was the next day, and he sighed. He supposed there was always next year, and he smiled as she teared up at the hundredth repeat of her favorite rodent's death. He had even gotten bored of the pandas, but she remained fascinated. Her long-again blonde hair fell over her well-curving body as she mourned the meerkat. She had cut it once when she was thirteen because she had wanted to be like her big brother, and he had to buy her a ribbon because she had been mistaken for a boy. Afterword she had given it to him, once her hair had grown back, saying that she thought it would look cute if he used it to tie back his hair instead of a worn out piece of white yarn. He still wore that ribbon today, though the color had faded and it was threadbare.

It was early in the afternoon when the doorbell rang. He answered it and found it to be the mailman, with a package. He realized that it was Eva's cat, and signed for it. He carried the box in to her, and opened it. Packing beans went everywhere, but they finally fished out the stuffed toy. They found that it was slightly larger than Shinatty-chan.

"Maybe this one is a boy, and yours is a girl." Eva pondered, and he nodded.

"What will we name him?" He asked.

"Neko-Kun." She said, and he was shocked at the Japanese coming from her adorable pink lips.

"When did you learn Japanese?"

"I didn't. I just watch this one anime that's about cats..." She said blushing, and turning away.

"I think I may have heard of it. I just never knew that you liked anime, Eva." He said, surprised that there was anything that he didn't know about her after all this time.

"Let's play with them." She said, holding up Neko-kun.

He agreed, and they went into her pink-drenched bedroom. They sat atop her fluffy pink bed, and smiled. For a grown man, he still played with dolls quite a bit, but he didn't care.

Somehow, the two stuffed toys ended up in love, and watching a movie together. He found himself showing her all the things he had wanted to say to her as the dolls when she decided that he would be better at playing Neko-kun, because he was a boy. The animals wound up kissing, and she insisted that he was doing it wrong.

"and how would you know? I doubt you've ever kissed anyone." He said, glaring at her. She pouted and looked away.

"So? You spent all your time at our house, so you never had a girlfriend either." She argued, and he scowled. Damn she was good.

"Then let's see which way works better." He suggested, his mind coming up with a way to get that kiss he'd been plotting for since seventh grade. He really hoped that this didn't count as letting anyone take advantage of Vash's sister, lest he suffer a painful death.

"You mean... the two of us?"

"Yep. We obviously can't tell with the animals, can we?" He raised an ebony brow and she smiled, making his heart speed up a little. He moved his lips close to hers, closing dark eyes as she covered the remaining distance. Their lips met in a flurry of sparks, causing them both to gasp. He tilted his head to the side, the way he had done with Neko-kun, and she put her arms around his neck, tugging on the ponytail held there. After a few moments, they both pulled away panting for air. Yao's cheeks were more flamingly red than Feliciano was flamingly gay, and he walked out of the room and into the guest room where he stayed.

"FUCK!" He shouted, bashing his head against the wall. He didn't expect her to continue the kiss. Nor was he supposed to enjoy it quite that much. He just wanted a taste of the forbidden fruit, but he feared that that tiny taste left him wanting the entire apple, in spite of the wrath he knew would follow. He may as well just shoot himself now and save time and anticipation. He sighed and crawled into his bed mumbling a mix of curses and prayers.

The next morning, Yao finally left his room due to hunger, and found Eva crying in the living room. He was shocked, and of course thought that she had felt violated after that kiss.

"Eva, I-"

"Leave me alone." She said, looking away, and holding Neko-kun like it was a lifeline.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that." He said, looking away and leaning on the wall. She looked up and saw that he was close to tears-manly tears mind you- and had the guiltiest looks she'd ever seen. Even worse than when that older boy Gilbert had smacked her ass in front of Vash. Then again that had been more fear as he was chased for six miles with a shotgun.

"What? But, I was the one who made it more than it was supposed to be? I didn't scare you away?" She looked up, and looked at him like God had just told her she was the new Mary.

"What? No! I-I've actually like you for a while, actually. I just used the cats as a reason to kiss you." He admitted, and instead of giving him the beating he felt he deserved, she hugged him. They eyes he had closed, not being able to bear the disgusted face he thought she would have flew open and met hers, smiling softly at him.

"We never tried the other way, Yao" she said, and he bent his head, sealing their lips together. It quickly became heated, and he was once again shocked as she started moving backward toward the couch. They fell onto it backward, scooting so that he was over top of her as his tongue breached her mouth. They were making out heatedly when the door clicked open.

"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL!" Vash's voice rang out, and they both jumped up, faces red and panting.

"Big brother-" She was interrupted with the chick-chick of a gun being cocked, and the Asian man started running, screaming apologies as Eva ran after the two, trying to save her new boyfriends life.

A/N-Vash didn't kill Yao Eva and he dated and married after her graduation. Vash took up anger management classes as well as teaching his friend to shoot so that his sister would still be safe. Thank you for reading, and I hope you review, with or without a request.


	3. Sufin unrequitedrequest

This is a request of unrequited SuFin/FinSu, inspired by watching the season 4 dub, where Sweden is told that Russia took one of Finland's ports, and almost asks if he can have one too.

Sweden was sitting in the world meeting, paying attention to nothing. All he could focus on was the Finn beside him, paying attention and looking so cute doing so. His head was cocked to the side and resting on his small, almost feminine hands, and his eyes were slightly squinted in conversation. Japan was making a speech about the overfishing of tuna, a valid point for once. He was leaned against his chair, looking at the man he'd been in love with for centuries through the corner of his eyes. He had been watching Russia as well, and the creepy man seemed to be staring at his Finny almost as much as the Swede himself, meaning the bastard was up to something. The last time he had looked at him like that, Finland had been gone for a month and a half, and he'd had to beg the Russian to let him go, promising to never oppose him on anything else. Not even his own capture.

Walking home from the meeting, the two Nordics were tired. Finland was happy to get into his hotel room, and go to sleep, whereas Sweden would be happy to get Finland away from Russia.

"So how are you with what Japan was saying, Su-san? You didn't say anything."

"Huh, oh. I wasn't paying attention, so I agree with you." he said, looking around to make sure they weren't being followed. He didn't know whether to trust his eyes or the nagging feeling in his gut.

"Su-San! You need to pay more attention. It was actually a valid point this time and you missed it."

"You could stay in my room and explain it to me, so that I don't get too far behind." He suggested. That would put Finland in his room, and away from Russia.

"Maybe in the morning at breakfast. Right now, I'm too tired." He said, yawning. So much for that idea. He sighed. Their hotel had decent security, and they were the only ones staying there, having had Finland book their tickets early. People wondered why he called him his wife. Other than the fact that he was madly in love with him, he also performed many of the duties performed by women, such as organizing and such.

"Okay. Just make sure you bolt your door, okay?" He said, as they arrived at the posh hotel. The smaller man nodded, and they went up to their rooms, next to each other but not connected. Sweden was on the side closest to the elevator, but he still waited until he heard the latch behind him. He'd never let harm come to his little Finny.

The meeting was adjourned, and as it was the final one for a while, they were to have a party afterword. Beer, ale, wine, whiskey, and any other alcohol one could want was present, and, as America was the host nation, there was an entire table devoted to burgers. Finland, in spite of his usual quite nature, partied hard, and was knocking back vodka like it was water and he'd just returned from the desert Sweden was no pansy, and got just as drunk as most of the rest, though England, ever the lightweight, was hammered before most of them were buzzed. France was naked as soon as he thought he wouldn't be killed for it, and the smaller nations were being cared for by none other than Switzerland in the next room. Presumably his charge was doing most of the entertaining, being a child herself.

As his judgment started to haze, Sweden found him finding excuses to touch Finland, excuses that were obviously so to anyone who wasn't drunk, but that was something this room lacked, and so they worked. By the time the hotel staff for the conference room actually came in and stopped them, the majority were passed out or in the process, and Sweden carried Finland out, with the half-awake man mumbling something unintelligible He went to the hotel where their rooms were, only a few minutes walk, lest the drunks get lost. Instead of letting Finland down, he carried the smaller man into his room, now completely passed out. His morality had gone with the tenth vodka, or perhaps the fifth beer, but either way, he was getting what he wanted, and his befuddled mind couldn't comprehend why he hadn't done it sooner.

Finland woke, completely nude in a strange room. While this would be a norm for say France, it was a first for him, and he lurched up to find Sweden snoring beside him. He looked around and found them in a hotel room, and the man beside him naked also. His head ached, and it took him a moment to register the additional throb in his entire lower body.

"I feel like a train hit me in the ass." He said aloud, only cursing because of his still fringed mind. He wondered what exactly had happened last night. Surely nothing bad, Sweden would never let anything happen to him. He'd learned that much at least.

"Close, but not quite." The man beside him said, and he jumped, not having realized him awake. For a large fellow, he was shockingly sneaky.

"What?"

"Well, I wanted one of your ports." He said, grinning. It was scarier than his normal face, and yet Finland's heart seemed to be racing for a different reason. Without glasses, or that angry face, he was actually quite attractive, and Finland found himself becoming aroused.

"I-I don't get it, Su-san." He said nervously, not moving either closer or away. He didn't like Sweden like that, but he was attracted to men, and this one was suddenly very much the object of that attraction. He hadn't gotten much lately, minus his own hand, and he had a feeling that he would like to remember the loving of someone like this.

"Then allow me to show you." He said, jumping on him like a lion. He waited for pain, but instead he felt the opposite as a talented Swede descended upon him. That mouth seemed t one in a hundred different places, as was his right hand. The left remained in one place, though perhaps the most essential;wrapped around his average sized penis. He moaned like a whore, and without warning he felt himself be filled. It should have hurt, he hadn't been laid in nearly a year, and yet it was loose...as if he had been thoroughly fucked just the night before.

"You- you took advantage of me, Sweden?" He gasped at the realization. He wasn't to bright. That had always been Sweden's job. He just looked cute and cheered the rough nation up when he was sad. Like a personal cheerleader.

"A man can only wait so long, Finny. I've been patient for a thousand years, and you just sat there, looking so hot. What more can you expect?" With the removal of the mouth, he was able to think enough tho jump up, kicking Sweden in the process.

"Why didn't you just say something?" he shouted.

"Would you have said yes?" He asked, his eyes growing dark and really terrifying.

"Well, probably not, but that's beside the point!"

"And what point would that be?" He whispered in the other's ear, having him backed up against the wall opposite the door.

"That you freaking' raped me!"

"How do you know that you didn't like it?"

"It doesn't matter, I was to drunk to think properly." He argued back, though his cheeks gained color as the man nibbled on his sensitive earlobe. He gasped, and then bit his lip.

"Your words are telling me no, but I was never good with words." He said, taking the half-hard member of his unwilling partner in hand. In another few moments, he thrust inside the Finn, making him bite his lip harder. It was bleeding, and Sweden removed his mouth from the ear to suck at the wound, opening the mouth to an invasion similar to the one on his other end. In spite of the fact that this was rape, something Finland tried convincing his traitorous body of, he began to kiss back, as well as meeting the movements of the large man's hips with his own. It wasn't long before he was spamming and cumming across both of their stomachs, letting out a cry of immense pleasure. The swede gave a moan and followed suit inside his lover, who was now limp against his chest. He carried him to the bed and set him down. He cradled him as if this was normal lovemaking between a long-term couple.

"I'm sorry, Finny. I couldn't help it." He whispered into hair dampened by fresh sweat.

"If you want, we can be friends with benefits. That was the best sex I've ever had." He suggested sleepily. It wasn't what Sweden wanted, but he'd take what he could get, and that was this. He nodded ,and the two fell asleep, right as the hotel manager walked in, ready to ask them what was going on and why hadn't they checked out yet. He glanced at the couple, and decided that he would just add another night to the card he had on file.


	4. GerItaShared Ignorance

Germany had never intended this. All he wanted was to finally pay back France, and get on his own two feet again. England, America, China, Russia, they were never supposed to be involved, especially as much as they said they hated France. But they had gotten involved anyway. He had nearly hit Japan when he heard the news of America's arrival, and then it had all gone down hill from there.

Before he knew what was happening, Italy was thrown over his brother's shoulder, begging not to have to go. He was allowed five minutes to say goodbye.

"I want to stay with you, Germany! Please don't let them take me. You're my best friend." He sobbed.

"Which is why you have to go, Italy." He said, showing his emotions against his cold instinct.

"W-what?"

"I can't let you get hurt because of me. I'm losing this war, Italy, and I can't let you be a casualty of my greed. Please, just go with your brother. You have plenty of other people who care about you, alright?" He gave him a small smile.

"But losing you hurts more than a bullet, Germany. I can't just leave you to die." He sobbed, and then warm arms embraced him.

"But nevertheless, I am selfish, so I think I'll take that bullet for you, Italy. Go with your brother, and I'll try my best not to get hurt, okay?" He whispered in the smaller man's ear.

"No! Please don't Germany!" He cried, latching onto the stronger nation with all the strength he had.

"It's better Italy. Plenty of people will care about you more than me." He let go, and Romano was pulling him away when the unexpected happened.

"I knew he'd take the bait." an English accent filled the room, and England himself appeared.

"What do you want, Britain?" Germany growled, reaching for his gun.

"Wouldn't do that, bro. Little guy here isn't one of us just yet." America said, and he saw that the young nation had guns at Italy and Romano's heads.

"You wouldn't attack your own ally, not even you bastards would sink that low." Germany said in disbelief Weren't they supposed to be the good guys?

"But he's not our ally. We've only ever worked with his criminals before."

"Germany..." The blonde nation awaited the wail of desperation, but it wasn't what he expected. "You've rescued me enough. Save yourself." Brown eyes were open and brimming with tears, as Romano and Germany looked at him in shock.

"I can't do that, Italy. I'm going to be selfish once again." Germany whispered, dropping his gun. Arthur raised his, and Germany resigned himself to this fate. He knew it would come to this long ago. That if he didn't win, he wouldn't get another chance. You can only burn the world so many times, before it burns you back. He heard a scream and a gunshot, but he didn't feel the unfortunately familiar burn of a bullet wound. He opened his blue eyes to see none other than cowardly Italy, lying on the ground, covered in blood.

"Dude, you shot the kid." America said softly, as if not believing the dying man on the floor.

"You were the one with a gun to his head. You were the one who brought him into this!" Germany shouted, getting off a single punch before Britain was on top of him, trying to hold him back, but nothing would work. He was bloodthirsty, and wanted English blood, whether from a child or straight from the source.

"You were the one who brought him into this, potato bastard!" Romano said, kneeling beside his brother. "All he ever talked about was how big and strong Germany was, but in the end, it was lies. You brought him into your fight knowing that he would never be able to keep himself safe. You pitted him against the world, and promised to be his shield, but he was the one who shielded you. It all goes back to you, but the idiot wouldn't believe me." The elder brother said, holding his barely breathing sibling in shaking arms.

"Don't blame Germany. He protected me plenty of times." Italy huffed out, barely able to conjure the energy.

"No, Italy. God, he's right. I should have sent you home when you offered to be my ally, but I didn't. I should never have believed my boss, but I did. It's my fault you're hurt." Germany fell to his knees. "But this isn't like with the Kubelwagon. You won't be found by a passerby a half hour from now and make it all go back to normal. You're hurt, and you might die because I too dumb to know a fool's gamble when I see one."He looked at those caramel eyes, no longer feeling worthy to touch that mocha skin, so he didn't get any closer.

"Dude, I never wanted to hurt him. He was cool, bro." America said, looking like he was graving as well.

"Indeed. He was annoying, but I'd never want to kill him."

"Stop talking about my brother like he isn't here!" Romano yelled, "He's stronger than this. Mr. Studly can live through bullet wounds, then so can he!"

"What bullet wounds, Germany?" Italy was confused, he never remembered Germany ever being hurt.

"Nothing. You're brother just has a big mouth, Italy." The blonde said, and then looked up at the two allies. "If you can save his life, I'll surrender without a fight. If he dies, then I'll fight to the last man woman and child. Europe will run red with blood, understand?" He reached a hand out to Italy, and then pulled it away, like a child who had nearly been caught trying to get a cookie he wasn't supposed to have.

"We'll try our best. Come on America, the medic tent isn't far away."

Germany sat next to the man they had gotten to sign the treaty. After everyone had killed themselves at news of surrender, they had to find the next leading guy. Hitler's toilet cleaner or something, Germany didn't care. Nothing mattered except the beeping of a heart monitor he could hear in the other room. Italy, alive but comatose, and all his fault. He wanted to blame France, or his boss, but he couldn't. Italy always told people he was so smart, but he was an idiot when it came down to it.

The treaty was signed, and Italy headed back home with his brother to be tended at a hospital near their home. He had the odd feeling that he wouldn't be welcomed in the Italian man's home.

He trudged into his own house in Berlin, immediately opening the bottle of vodka he kept for when he wanted to get really drunk. He seemed to have a habit for failing Italies. First, the little girl who he had left to fend for herself as a child, only to find that when he came back, Italy was a man and had no clue who he was. Obviously she had died because he hadn't been there to protect her, the whole reason he had gone off to war to begin with. And now, Italy had nearly died again because he couldn't recognize a setup when he saw one.

He guzzled the large bottle, and stumbled around in his home, something that would become quite the norm in the months following.

"Mr. Vargas, you seem to be making a full recovery." The doctor said, as the younger Italian got up and walked around. He couldn't help but think that physical therapy was like training with Germany, only now he had all the work and none of the Germany.

"See, Big Brother, I'm fine! I can go visit Germany now, right?" He asked, smiling. He still needed to use a cane to walk, but he would walk the entire way without it to get to Germany.

"No, you idiot. He's the reason you're like this, remember?"' The elder yelled, and instead of cowardice, what he expected, he got a disapproving frown from his baby brother.

"I don't know why I even asked. You and the allies always blame everything on Germany." He said softly, and Romano just looked away.

"I said no, Veniziano, and I mean it. If you go to that bastard's house, you can never come back home, understand?"

The younger brother nodded, and stood up.

"Then it may be a long while before we see each other again, Romano." He said, hair falling over his tearing eyes. He hobbled out of the doctor's office, determined, more so than he'd ever been in his life. He acted weak, but he had the Roman empire in his veins, and in times of necessity, it showed. Like now.

He managed to get to the nearest train station, and get a train for later that day. By tomorrow afternoon, he would be knocking on Germany's front door. He only hoped that he would be accepted there. He hadn't called, or even let his best friend know he was alive, and there was really no turning back now. He could go live with France, but there was too much weird touching there, because the pervert thought him to innocent to know what he was doing. Spain had enough problems of his own, and couldn't even afford to let Romano stay with him anymore, so there was no way he could afford a cripple. Germany had to let him stay with him again. He couldn't survive otherwise. He hadn't been on his own since he had met Holy Rome, that boy he had fallen in love with so long ago. Then he had left, off to war and he had never seen him again. That was the real reason he had went to war with Germany. He hated violence, but he couldn't let the one he loved head off to fight and die again while he stayed home worrying. When that gun was pointed at Germany, he couldn't stop thinking about Holy Rome.

"No matter how much time goes past, you'll always be my favorite in the whole world!"

"Russia will not interfere with out friendship. We can be best friends forever."

Germany was more gruff, but really that was just a maturity thing. If he thought about it, Germany was like a manlier version of Holy Rome, and he loved him even more.

Italy knocked on the door, only to find that it wasn't being answered. He tried the knob and discovered that it was open, something that had never happened before. He went into the house, which reeked of alcohol, and was pitch black. He searched the house, but found nothing. He was starting to get scared, Germany never left his house this messy, and he always left a note when he went out, even when he wasn't expecting anyone. The only place left to look was the attic, and Italy wondered if his muscles could climb the ladder after months of inactivity. He put the cane down and tried anyway. He felt like he weighed two hundred pounds, instead of his real ninety-five, but he made it. What he saw there disturbed him.

Germany, the strong proud man who had faced the world and nearly won, was lying in a barely breathing pile on the floor, covered in dirt and his own vomit. He had a broom clutched in one hand, and a piece of paper in the other. He was paler than his Aryan skin made normal, and his eyes had large bags under them.

"Germany!" Italy yelled, trying to run to him, but tripping on his own already overtaxed legs. He crawled the last foot, ignoring the small stream of blood pouring from his forehead. He sat up next to his love, and brushed dirty blonde hair from his face. On his bare chest, in addition to the filth, was a pair of old fashioned woman's underwear, and the boxers that Italy had given him for Christmas. Then he started to recognize that broom, and those panties. He had given them to Holy Rome before he left. Somehow they had wound up in Germany's basement.

"Germany, wake up!" He cried, shaking the comatose man, tears running down his face as if his eyes were faucets. He gained hope when he stirred, opening glazed and red rimmed blue eyes.

"Mein mind is playing tricks on me again, is it?" He mumbled. "What is it my sub conscience wants from me now? I suppose I do need a bath."

"No, it's really me, Germany. Romano wouldn't let me see or call you, so I left. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." He wrapped thin, bony arms around Germany's neck, which was also thinner than he remembered, but still strong.

"That's what you always say, but I do enjoy playing along." He laughed and stood, taking Italy with him. "Let's go have a shower then."Germany carried him down the ladder, if somewhat unsteadily. Italy held on tightly, in spite of the odor, and they were soon in the bathroom, with Germany undressing while he leaned against the counter. Germany was wearing loose pants, and nothing else, while Italy was in a now dirty silk shirt with jeans and black shoes.

"You never got naked before, Germany." He pointed out, and Germany looked at him strangely

"My hallucinations never minded before, and neither did the real Italy. He was always trying to get me to take my clothes off. You must be new." He said, turning the shower on.

"No, I'm the real Italy. Why won't you believe me?" Germany just gave a low chuckle in response. Italy removed his clothing and stepped into the shower, though he leaned heavily on the wall.

"Why do you have that broom, and those panties?"he asked. "I gave them to the Holy Roman Empire when I was a child."

"For a figment of my imagination, you're pretty impressive. You almost ask as many questions as the real Italy. You know that they're both dead because of me." He said, pouring shampoo into his palm, and lathering his hair.

"I'm real, and what to you mean both? There was only one Italy."

"No, there was her, and then him. But she died because I went away, and couldn't keep my promise to protect her. Then he came along, and he died because of me too. You should know that."

"No, Germany! I just looked like a girl! Hungary let me wear her dresses because cross-dressing was fashionable in France, and neither of us had much money. I've been a guy this whole time!" He said, smiling brightly at the implications of what Germany was saying.

"Then why didn't you remember me, Italy?" He seemed to be angry, and turned, putting his thumb and pointer finger roughly on Italy's chin.

"That hurts, Germany. And I didn't know it was you. You looked like him, but you called yourself something else, and never talked about your childhood." He said, trying to pull away. Then Germany's eyes really went wide.

"You never pulled away before either. A-are you really here?" the rough touch became a gentle caress, and tears mixed with the dirty water pouring down the blonde's body.

"That's what I've been telling you, silly Germany!" He said,and his legs started to shake. He hadn't been up for this long before, and it was taking it's toll. He collapsed only to have strong arms catch him.

"I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to get hurt, I wanted you to leave. I love you, Italy, please believe me." He sobbed, falling to his knees in the tub, and holding the Italian on his lap.

"Of course I believe you. And I love you too, Germany. Why else would I get myself hurt to save you. No sense in taking a bullet for someone not worth saving, right?" He said, resting against a broad chest.

"Thank you, Italy. For coming back to me, after all I've done."

"No, thank you, for keeping your promise, even when I couldn't realize it."

"You're still my favorite in the whole world, Italy."

"You too, Germany."

A/N- This was just an idea of mine, where both Italy and Germany remembered their childhoods together, but neither ever brought it up. I mean, Italy changed gender, after all, so how could Germany expect to recognize him? Anyway, I hope you review and request. Yes, not all ideas have to be lemons, though most will be.


	5. Pirate SpUKMarooned

This is not a request, but my own mind. I usually ship FrUK, but I got a SpUK idea so here it is, in all it's underdeveloped glory. Oh, and Ludwig is supposed to be HRE at the time, but I support Germany=HRE, so I just gave them the same name!

"This is your fault, bastard!" Captain Arthur Kirkland yelled, though it was a stretch to call him captain with his ship in pieces at the bottom of the Atlantic.

"I didn't want to get captured, either!" Captain Antonio Carreido shouted back. They were currently in the ship hold of the only other pirate that even came close to them, Fransis Bonnafoy. He was amazingly effeminate for a pirate captain, and his crew were far from the rough and tumble folk that usually flew the black flag. He wore bright clothing, and his hair was long and perfectly groomed. His crew and himself bathed in scented oils usually used only by women, in fact, the rivalry between the two of them, and the Frenchman had started because he tried to break up a fistfight between the two captains, and it had ended in them thinking him a girl and trying to come onto him. Antonio had ended up making out with him, and running out of the inn screaming when he discovered it to be a man. He had stayed out of port for nearly a year, only picking up water on shore ,and fishing for the rest with his first mate, Romano, an Italian who had signed after his little brother had been taken by a couple of German brothers, one named Gilbert, and the younger, just a child, Ludwig.

Luckily, both Romano, as well as Alfred were left ashore the last time, because they wanted to go to school. The captains had scoffed at them, but allotted them a year for learning. Now those two were the only ones they had left.

"How did we let that bastard get both of us?" The Brit continued on his rampage, in spite of the fact that the man he was chained to wasn't listening, and was in the exact same situation.

"Maybe because we were so busy fighting each other, we didn't notice him appearing on the horizon." The Spaniard scowled, something he rarely did. He was almost always quite cheerful, and loved by his late crew for it, but something about this particular Brit made his blood boil.

"Bonjour, Fellow seafarers!" The French captain called as he descended into the deck of the ship to where they were.

"The Fuck do you want, Frog?" Arthur spat, literally and figuratively

"I just want to have a chat with my friends, but I had no idea you were so eager to spit shine my boots, Cutie." He said, and Antonio just rolled his eyes.

"I told you to just let him be, stupid. Maybe you should listen next time." The tan one chided, making the stubborn Brit scowl and glare.

"My crew is dead, why would I hold my tongue when there's no use for it any longer." He said, and the offending prisoner was yanked up by his shirt, and spit in his left eye.

"Fine. Maybe if you had been nice, I wouldn't have marooned the both of you." He said, angrily. He threw Arthur back on the damp wood, and walked away.

"Great. Now we're going to be marooned, damn British bastard." The Spain grumbled, obviously having the attack be his fault, because Antonio never made any stupid mistakes like this.

"If you hadn't been in a British port, this never would have happened."

"If you weren't in a British port, then I wouldn't have gone there to sink you." He said, though it wasn't a very good comeback.

"Either way, we have to find a way out of this. That damn Alfred is a complete idiot. He'll never live on his own." He said, green eyes staring into the rotting planks as if they held his soul inside them.

"The same with Romano. He has no idea what to do without me. Don't tell him I said that, though." He laughed a little, thinking of the cute little Italian boy. He always said that he hated his captain, and yet Antonio was who he came to whenever he was in need of assistance, and he had once caught him trying to clean their quarters, only to have the broom come up and smack him in the forehead, which was followed by a long series of cursing. Even for a pirate, the boy had a... colorful vocabulary.

Alfred, one the other hand, was quite the independent fellow. Arthur had to do little for him, but it was best that he did nearly everything. While the boy was the best fighter on his crew, he was a terrible cook, and he had no sense of direction, the atmosphere of a situation, and he had an issue with pride. He never turned down a challenge, as well as a hero complex. In a rich family, with plenty of guards to back him up, it would be perfect, and the ladies would faun over him like the princely figure he was, but he wasn't that person. He was born a street urchin, and being a pirate was pretty much the highest one could get from that station, unless he managed to piss the Spanish off enough to get knighted.

"So, what ideas do you have, with your fancy British upbringing?" The tan one asked.

"Not much, other than see what we can find on the island to make a small raft. If the winds have stayed reliability similar to what they were before, then we should be headed to a deserted island only about a day's sail from Tortuga"

"How can you tell that without getting up on the deck?"

"I can feel directional changes, you idiot."

"Oh. Well, I can make a boat. I actually put my first ship together myself, and worked on the docks before I became a privateer."

"You're a bloody pirate, just say it."

"You know, I was going to be sent on a mission to the new world by my king. It was going to bring us both riches, and I would never have to sail the seas again." He said, staring dreamily into the darkness.

"A pirate who dreams of land? That's odd."

"I want to live on a tomato farm, and have them any time I want. That would be the life, my friend." He had always called the other captain "my friend," but it had always been meant sarcastically, and responded to with anger. Now it sounded much more sincere, and the Brit just smiled with his Spanish companion.

"I want to start a school." he admitted. "One of those big schools, that teach Latin, and teaches kids to think instead of just doing what they're told."

"Perhaps if we ever get out of here, we can start a school that teaches children to farm tomatoes in the new world. They'd never catch us there, because there are few Frenchman."

"Maybe. But we do have to do that whole escaping thing first." He said, as the ship suddenly lurched to the side.

Seeing as how the two were tied together, it caused them to fall into a pile on the floor, with Antonio at the bottom, looking into shocked green eyes. His heart seeded up, and he noticed that the blonde was staying on top of his for much longer than necessary The oddest part, he didn't mind. In fact, he liked the feeling of touching the smaller man. He was actually fairly light, almost like a woman when Antonio thought about it, and the tighter than normal shirt he wore showed the slight curve of his hip, and he couldn't help but imagine the milky skin which surely covered it.

"Sorry, mate." The Englishman said awkwardly, jumping up when he realized that he had been staring into the other man's eyes while on top of him.

"No problem." They stared into opposite ends of the hold, blushes remaining on there cheeks as they pondered the strange happening. Until they were roughly shoved out of their cell and into the light of a mid-day sun, burning their eyes which had become accustomed to only the light of a single candle.

"That is your new home." The effeminate captain said, gesturing toward a tiny piece of sand with a small amour of foliage toward the center.

"I don't see a house there, Amiga Are you sure you have not made a mistake?" The Spaniard joked, making sure to use the feminine word.

"We'll see who's laughing when you go mad from drinking sea water, and starvation. Not to mention lack of sleep, having to lay with your enemy."

"We've both decided that we hate you more than each other. So pray to your stupid French god that we do not escape, or I will decorate my mantle with your head."Arthur said, two pairs of green eyes glared into a single pair of blue.

"That is unlikely. Now, off the ship with them, boys." He said, turning away. They realized that Arthur's hand wasn't to be untied from Antonio's left, though it was only rope. It wouldn't sink them for sure, but they would have to be in-sync to achieve even getting to the island.

"I'll call cadence, or we'll drown." Antonio said, taking the lead. While Arthur wasn't used to a subservient role, he nodded to the taller man, as they were prodded off of the plank attached to the side of the ship. As soon as they hit the warm, salty water, Antonio started calling out "Right! Left! Right!" and so long as the other could keep up with that, they were doing-pardon the pun- swimmingly. They arrived at the shore with the taste of salt in their mouths, and tired mules, but still breathing and that was fairly important. They were both hungry, but that could wait as well.

"Where did you learn that?"

"My father was a soldier, and he planned for me to do the same. I was never the type though, too free spirited, so I ran away and worked on the docks, until I could build my ship. That was about twenty three. Then I started sinking messenger vessels, and as soon as I could, I got my crew larger and got a real ship, the one that Fransis sunk. Bastard."

"Impressive."

"So where did you grow up?"

"The streets of London, about as far away from a sailor's life as a Brit can get. But then I saw Fransis Drake, and I couldn't help but place a bit of hero worship in him. To a boy who had learned that you could do whatever you wanted if you had power, a man with plenty of power, and money, was a wonderful aspiration. I went to a port, and stowed upon a ship, and waited until they all went off for drinking. Then I stole it, a small vessel that I could man myself, mind you. Then I pretty much did the same as you."

"So you started with nothing, and I gave it away?"

"No. I started with freedom. Where I lived, you could get away with anything if you were sneaky enough, and that, if nothing else, is something I can do."

"Did you have your parents around, or siblings?"

"I had a big brother, but he joined the navy when I was little. His name is Scott, and he had planned to come back and support me and my mother so that we could have a good life. I haven't heard from him since, and Mum died less than a year later."

"You've made well for yourself, haven't you?"

"Mum would yell at me for going against my brother, and then give me a big hug for doing better than him. She was a wonderful woman."

"My Mama left when I was fifteen, along with father. I was their only child, and they said they'd rather be heiress than have a pirate son. So I never went back to Madrid. There was nothing for me."

"Seems like we've both had our bits of family issues. But we should start looking for something to build a boat with before we starve." Antonio agreed, both of them getting up from the sandy ground.

"The sun is nearly set, Amigo. I think we should just start again in the morning." Antonio said, both of them having been collecting wood. He noticed that the blonde was exhausted, even though his piles were always smaller than the other's. He must not have been very strong, what with growing up on stealth, instead of strength.

"Alright, but can we even light any of this wood?"

"It's plenty warm, so there's no need. We can save it all for the boat." He got in reply, as well as a cheery smile. He smiled back, and sat down close to his fr enemy

"Of all the people to get stuck with..." He trailed off, laying down and covering himself with his jacket. Antonio did the same, as the sun set behind the horizon.

The next morning, the Spanish man awoke, and was oddly warm. He looked down to find that he had his arm wrapped around his companion, and that wasn't the most alarming part. To make matters worse, he was sporting a rock hard erection, and he couldn't help but notice how it had fit wonderfully in the crack of Arthur's ass through his baggy trousers.

He went into the woods, not wanting the other to see what had happened, lest he be bashed with a rock, even if he did know how to get them off the island.

The blonde man woke as he came back, yawning and stretching before standing and hearing his stomach growl.

"Dammit. I'd do anything for some food. Or maybe some rum, or whiskey." He looked around, as if there might just be a pub on their tiny little home.

"You could try fishing while I gather more things for the raft. That way I don't drop dead before it get's done."

"Alright, I'll try. Hand be one of those sticks over there, and I'll spear the little bastards."

"No, stupid, you spear the big bastards. I'm damn hungry." He joked, heading once again into the forest.

Through the day, piles were brought into the clearing, until a huge mound of various pieces of wood were on the beach.

"Got one!" Arthur yelled, as he brought up a huge fish, wider than he was.

"That's good. I was starting to doubt you, but not anymore." Their eyes fell hungrily on the dying creature, and Antonio started rubbing two of the driest sticks together, until a spark fell on bits of moss and leaves. Eventual they had a fire going, and the fish split in half with a pointy shell they were using as a knife, having been disarmed. While it cooked, Arthur caught another, smaller one, and held it high and victorious.

"You can have the larger one. You did do most of the work." The blonde suggested, placing his later catch over the small blaze.

"But you caught the food, so we eat equally."

"Then at least take the bigger half." He stubbornly insisted, and so, to avoid a fight and later hunger, he did so. When the fish looked reliability done, the took them and chowed down. After a decent meal, both of them were feeling tired, and the sun was setting. They fell asleep.

On this morning, there was a similar situation to the one previous, only this time, Arthur awoke first, feeling strong, Spanish arms around him... and an erection pressing into his clothed ass. Strangely, he liked the feeling, and rocked against it expressively He could say that he was tossing and turning in his sleep if the other woke up. He found that it was quite enjoyable, though he had nee considered the male gender before. Then again, he had never done too much with the ladies, only putting on to show up his ex-rival, who always won. He bit his lip and undid the sash that served as his belt, and slipped his hand into his trousers. There was no going back on the sleep moving thing at this point, but it felt so good he hardly cared, and after all he was the one who had been poked to start with so it was all the Spaniard's fault anyway.

Antonio woke up to find a blushing Brit practical riding his cock like a horse, and masturbating to the feeling. Not that he didn't love the way those tight cheeks caressed his member, but it was very unexpected to say the least. _Oh well_ he thought _what's the worst that can happen?_

He moved his hips forward, making the smaller man jump. Before the other could speak, Antonio stuck his warm hand down the Brit's trousers, replacing the pale hand with his own.

"W-what are you doing?" He asked, panting and thrusting into the other's hand.

"What were you doing, hm? How about we get rid of these pesky clothes?"He asked, slipping the jackets off of where they lay, half on half off. Next came the pants, and then it stopped.

"I don't know. It just felt good." The other breathed out, gasping.

"I see. Here," The larger man put his other hand at the Brit's mouth, shoving the digits inside. "Suck, and I can make you feel much better."

The whispered words sent chills and the bottom did as told, sucking on the tan fingers like candy. He was quite enjoying it, in a strange way, and Antonio was defiantly getting further turned on by images of what else could be in his mouth.

The sun reached full height and looked down to find the two men moving, one inside the other, like old lovers. They had fought with swords and fists, and now their bodies were simply doing another movement together, each used to interpreting the other long ago. The dusk found them tired, more satisfied than either had ever been, and having done nothing productive that day. They fell asleep in each other's arms, with the Spaniard mumbling sweet nothings in the other's ear as he held his protectively

The next day saw a boat made, and the day following with them in the pirate port. From what they had left there, they both had enough to pool and get a single boat. They dubbed it the new hope, and headed to get their boys and start a tomato farming school in the new world.


	6. Spamano request

This is a request of Romano and Spain. Thank you to the people who request, and even just read. Every review makes me feel happier than an Italian in a pasta shop, so thank you. Oh, contains child molestation as well as the breaking up(or rather non-forming) of the BBT, so you have been warned. And no, Spain doesn't molest Romano.

Spain was broke. That much was completely certain He hadn't been anything else in a long while, but that civil war of his had put him into a new level of brokenness He was making paper flowers, when he had once been the most powerful nation in the world, wolf of the sea and fear of everyone else who sailed it. Now he was just that guy who couldn't even join the world war because he couldn't afford spitballs, much less real guns. But now Romano was calling him, saying that he was in need of rescue. He was torn. If he were to go and save his little Tomato, then he would receive yet another beating from his boss, and he had had quite enough of those. But he couldn't imagine what terrible things England was doing to the fragile little Italian, and his brother.

"I'm sorry, but I can't come help you."

"What the hell do you mean, bastard!" He heard his Italy shouting, and then North Italy in the background telling him to hush or Britain would... He didn't get the rest. Only that apparently something terrible would happen if Britain found out that he had been contacted. Romano had risked so much just to call him, because he obviously believed that he would save him.

"Not Mr. Britain sir... don't make me..." He heard Romano say.

"Get up brother... don't... Leave my brother alone..." Was what he could gather from the younger brother.

_Dios Mio, what are they doing to my little Romano?_ He thought. All he could get was that apparently, Romano was on his knees, and doing something that Italy of all people felt the urge to gather up courage to stop. He stood, and left, without second thought. He could hear hid boss yelling behind him, but he didn't care. He would not allow terrible things to happen to Romano just so he didn't get one or two little beatings.

In reality, the terrible thing was eating Britain's food, nearly as bad as being made a prison bitch, but not quite. Nevertheless, Spain was on his way, and he would defiantly not allow anyone to harm the man he had raised from a boy, and then continued to care for as a man until quite recently In fact. He was still trying to make up for the time he had failed him as a child, a moment that had ruined the friendship between France and Spain forever.

_Romano was walking around, just trying to do something by himself for a change, as well as process the fact that Spain was constantly bruised because he refused to forsake him. It really was stupid, as he didn't see what the Spaniard saw in him to make him keep him. He couldn't clean, and he was too small to cook properly. He was an ass, no matter how hard he tried to be something else. He didn't even have all of that money from Grandpa, as it had been spent trying to keep him safe, along with all of the riches Spain had brought back from the New world. He saw no worth in himself, and had no clue why Spain would take all of those beatings just for him. He was terrified of the queen, and yet his mentor stood up to her every moment he stayed with him. He was thinking about simply leaving, and hoping that she left Spain alone. _

_He was absorbed in self-depreciation when France came up behind him, full on creeper face activated. He snatched up Romano, covering his tiny mouth. He had a cloth on his hand, and the small boy felt himself fade out of conscienceness. _

_Spain was worried sick, he hadn't seen Romano in nearly ten hours. He had even missed supper, something that never happened. He would tell his boss, but that lady would only want to find out if he had been kidnapped by France or Turkey to thank them. He placed a bandage on his bleeding forehead, from a particularly hard smack to the head when he had refused to give up Romano to the Ottomans. Now that his riches and power were gone, the little boy was all he had left, and while he was difficult to deal with, Spain saw that, deep down, he was a good person. He decided to head out to search for him. He was far too worried to sleep, and this would be the only time when he could freely leave. Otherwise he'd run into his boss, and she'd hit him again._

_He went immediately to France's house, only to hear quite whimpering._

_After waking up, he discovered that he was in a dark room, naked, and it smelled like cheese. He knew exactly where he was, even though he didn't remember who had grabbed him. Only France would do this, and have a house that stunk so badly. He looked around, hoping to find some clothing, but obviously had a fruitless effort. _

_He was shivering from both chill and fear, and the only thing he could find was a bunch of wine. He was in that bastard's wine cellar, and he had no idea what was going to happen to him. How could he, no little kid expects horrors like this._

_France came in, naked as well, but his wiener thing looked much different than that of the per-pubescent boy. He tried to run, and scream, but he couldn't do anything against the superior strength of the adult. He pelt pain wrack his small body as it was used for the other's pleasure. He cried, screamed, and begged, but it didn't stop until he felt the salty burn of the Frenchman's essence fill his battered hole and coat his lacerations. He fell to the floor, and couldn't move an inch farther. A mix of blood and cum oozed from his tiny body, more like a corpse than a living thing, and he just wished that Turkey had killed him. Then Spain would be okay, and this wouldn't be happening. Hours later, the Frenchman returned, and his throat was too hoarse to cry anymore. He was taken to the backyard and tied up like a dog. _

"_Spain, come save me. I need you." He whispered, his raw throat barely making a sound as he fell back to the floor, everything hurting, but most of all, his innocent soul. _

_Spain ran into the house, kicking in the front door and not giving a damn what awaited him on the other side._

"_France, where is Romano?" He shouted, going through the house, and looking for both his charge and the one he needed to hurt for taking him. _

"_Spain...?" He heard a voice that was barely there from the back, so he went out. When he saw the boy lying there, it was obvious what had happened. He immediately wanted to kill France, but he knew that getting Romano somewhere safe was more important. He untied the boy and picked him up, tears in his eyes. The fire that had been so bright in his eyes wasn't even smoldering It would have to be re-lit using wet wood, and Spain knew that. He saw the death that had taken place as Romano's innocence was stolen in the night. _

"_I'm so sorry, Romano. I didn't come for you in time to save you." He said, wrapping the boy in his jacket and shirt as they walked back to their home._

"_No, you shouldn't take me back, Spain." He said, a small flicker appearing behind his eyes._

"_Why not? You don't want to stay with France, do you?"_

"_No, but I don't want you to get hurt for me, anymore. There's no reason that you should get hurt because of me." _

"_Silly Romano. I take the beatings because to me you are worth them. Seeing you in this shape hurts more than if I had gone through it myself." He said. Clutching the boy closer to his tan, bare chest. Romano gave a small smile before falling asleep to the sound of that steady heartbeat._

Romano was in Britain's cell, his brother beside him. They were both staring at the British food as though it were radioactive waist that they were expected to consume. It may have well been an ingredient, however, because even America, who had grown up eating it, didn't like the Brit's food, and they were Italian, dammit. They had gourmet food on their down days, and were the best chefs in the world, unless you were talking pastries. They had grown up with pasta and fine wine, and were now being handed tasteless goo. Really, Italy thought he saw it move at one point.

"Gobble it up, it's all you're going to have for those sensitive taste buds of yours until It's finished." Britain huffed, angry at having his food rejected once again.

"I'd rather starve to death." They both said in unison

"Don't worry, brother, Germany will show up soon ,and then we can at least eat his mushy potatoes instead of this." Italy said, trying to comfort his brother.

"why do you assume that Mr. Super-Studly will come to save us?"

"Because Germany always rescues me. He's never let me down, even when his boss yelled at him for it." Italy said, and Romano sighed. He had been counting on Spain. He had been expecting a fast response something along the lines of "I'm already on my way, Romano." but instead, he was given a flat out no. The person he loved was abandoning him, whereas that stupid potato bastard never let Feli down, even when it could lose a war to save him. He only harassed his brother and Germany because he was testing the kraught, and the last thing he wanted was for Feli to fall for someone as useless as the man he loved.

They were sitting with growling stomachs when the door kicked open. Everyone expected to see a tall blonde German in the doorway, but the words were switched up.

"Romano, are you alright?" those words not only put him first, something Germany never did, but also were spoken in a Spanish accent, something that only one nation had quite like that.

"You came for me?" He asked.

"Of course, how was I supposed to leave my little tomato to this guy?" He said, punching Britain in the back of his head and unlocking their cell.

"Italy I-" Germany ran in as Romano was rejoicing with his brother, saying that since Spain rescued them they could have real food now.

"Germany!" Italy noticed him in the doorway and ran into his arms, causing the other nation to blush.

"I didn't actually bring any food, Lovi." He shrugged, looking guilty.

"Thanks, bastard." Romano said, hugging the Spaniard's neck tightly.

"I'll never let you down again, Romano. No matter what my boss says."

"Wait, you aren't going to get hit again, are you?" He asked, looking very concerned

"Yeah, probably, but it was worth it." He smiled back at him.

"Nein. You saved Italy, and your boss owes my boss plenty of favors. I'll see to it that you can save them whenever they need it." Germany said, happy to have his Italian by his side again.

"Thanks." Romano said, as though it was more of a weight lifted off of him that the one who would actually receive the beatings. "But I still don't trust you."

That night, Romano was at Spain's house, just to make sure that Germany had come through, which he had. Spain would still have to do tons of work, but he would no longer be beat.

"Why did you thank Germany, I thought you hated him, and you weren't the one being hurt." Spain asked, when they were both ready for bed.

"Because you idiot. Sometimes it hurts someone more to see the people they love hurt than to be hurt themselves." He said, turning to his ex-boss.

"Then you love me, Romano?" He asked, astounded. In response, the younger nation pressed a passionate kiss to Spanish lips, both of whom tasted like tomato

"Does that answer your damn question?" He was blushing redder than he tasted, and Spain smiled.

"I love you too, Romano." He said, holding the young man against his chest and rocking gently.


	7. SealandxLatvia Request

Okay, so this is the continued request of Hetalialover0123, who made 5 requests, which is perfectly fine. This is Sealand x Latvia, and while I usually ship Sealand with Liechtenstein, here it is.

Sealand was depressed. Today he was sitting outside the world meeting, yet another glass of orange soda and still being ignored. It had been like this for more than fifty years, and yet he still came to everyone, hoping to eventually be recognized. This time, however, he was thinking of giving up. In a way, not having to take his land from anyone was both a blessing and a curse. It meant that he didn't have to risk losing his war and then not being able to become his own nation, but in addition, if you fight a war for independence, people recognize you as soon as you win. Now he was just that cute kid that no one payed attention to. He was swinging his feet from the chair, as they couldn't reach the floor, when one of the other nations walked by. Latvia, the only one who was as tiny as him, well, close at least.

"Are you still not recognized, Peter?" He asked, and the micro nation shook his head. "I've been trying to convince my boss, but he won't listen."

"Thank anyway, I suppose."

"Not a problem, but I'd trade you in a heart beat. It's a lot of work to be a nation."

"I know, but it's better than just sitting around. I get bored, not to mention, everyone makes fun of me."

"Here, let's go to the arcade or something. Estonia will fill me in if something actually happens." Latvia suggested, and Sealand jumped at it. Both of them, due to the tiny size of their nations and their equally small influence, they were stuck in the life of thirteen year old boys, which was quite the odd situation. Hormones constantly unbalanced, and of course they were trapped in that weird stage where they just wanted to have sex with _something_. Unfortunately, the only female nation close to them in age was Lichtenstein, and anyone who even looked at her got shot at.

"Sounds cool. Let's go." He hopped off of his chair and followed the elder boy out of the conference hall and into the streets of Tokyo, where the meeting was held at that time. This was a wonderful place for teenage boys with money to spend, since they spoke Japanese as well as having no parental guidance. Estonia and England obviously were not counting, since neither really did much in their raising.

They went into the huge arcade down the street, and bought as many coins as they could fit into Latvia's backpack, brought for meeting notes, but used for much more important things. Sealand was instantly draw to the DDR stage, and proceeded to beat everyone in the place, airing them a refund as well as a years pass to the arcade for free. He hugged his best, and only really, friend as he was handed the pass. Latvia was also focused on the fact that the little man could keep up those movements so fast for so long. His mind went to dirty places, giving him images a big brother shouldn't have. Images that were more suited for parents, like Sweden and Finland. In fact, Sealand had told him about a time when he had walked in on his "parents" doing the nasty, and that was how he had learned about sex. No one ever gave them the talk, so they got all there information from the internet, something called fanfiction, and the drunken mumblings of France. All in all, it was a fairly twisted view, but it was all they had, along with their adolescent cravings.

The sun was setting, and the two were headed back to Latvia's hotel room, since Sealand hadn't rented his own. The boys regularly roomed together, and shared anything they found to strange to share with anyone else. Tonight, however, they would share even more. Far more.

"Hey, Latvia..?" Sealand started, as the two of them shoveled in delivery pizza.

"Hm?"

"Have you ever done...you know?" He swung his feet from atop the bed.

"N-no. I'd have told you. We tell each other everything, right?" He hoped this didn't mean that this was something that the other had been keeping from him.

"Do you want to?" He asked, his white cheeks turning red.

"What? Me and you? But, we're both guys."

"So? France says that he does it with other guys, and Mom and Dad are both men. And Germany and Italy. And China and Russia. And-"

"I get the idea, though I don't know how you know most of those."

"I have a lot of time on my hands, what with not being a nation and all."

"I guess that is true."

"So, do you want to?"

"Sure, but I don't know how."

"I watched Mom and Dad once. I'll show you. Do you want to be the Mommy or the Daddy?" This was his childish way of asking who should be on top, and at least that much was understood.

"I want to be the guy, if that is okay with you, of course." He looked into the green eyes of his friend, and saw happiness.

"Okay, well, first you have to take off your clothes." He instructed, acting a bit like a drill instructor as he had seen Germany do. At the time the two were having a bot of role-play, but Sealand didn't understand that fact, so he was certain that it was just a part of it. The two of them got naked, and then the younger began to blush, his confidence fading fast.

"Now what?"

"W-well, we just... touch each other." He said, moving toward his partner, who enthusiastically took the order. He nodded, but then gulped. He brushed a finger a lot the younger man's jaw, as he had seen in movies, before placing a small kiss on the other's lips. It felt nice, and when the other placed hands of his shoulders, and he placed his on the pale hips before him, his heart started racing. His barely developed private area started to stir, and tongue was added to the kiss. Hot breath hit his face, and he opened the other's mouth completely. He was lost in sensation, and wouldn't have been able to stop if he wanted to. He was tickling the back of the British boy's throat with his long tongue, and noticed that he didn't seem to have a gag reflex. He didn't know why, but this made him even more turned on, and he started pushing his partner to the bed awaiting them.

With the weight of the other boy on top of him, Sealand was going crazy. He wanted to buck his hips, but the other's were holding him down. He breathed heavily as the other moved nervously to his neck. He really had no clue what he was doing, just that this was the greatest thing he had ever felt, and he had no intention of ever stopping if he didn't have to. Well trimmed nails dug into Latvian skin as their erections brushed, and he wiggled as much as possible, trying to create more friction.

"Am I hurting you?" the larger boy asked, and Sealand shook his head.

"More." He moaned, moving their bodies together as much as possible. He felt a strange feeling growing inside of him, and he liked it very much.

The other boy nodded his head, and sat up.

"How am I supposed to...you know." Ironic that you know was such a used phrase, when neither of them knew much of anything.

"You have to use some kind of lubricant on it, and then you use your hand, and then just put it in." He said, vague, but enough that the other got the idea. He stood, looking around the hotel room. Being Japan, they actually had a small bottle in the cabinet, something neither boy had ever noticed before. He went back to where his lover was waiting and pressed him into the sheets again, putting a good amount of the cool substance onto his fingers and warmed it in his hand. He did as the other had instructed him, though it was rough. He had no idea how to go slowly, and so he just rammed two fingers inside of the other and started moving. The other boy heals his tears and his tongue as the feeling faded from white hot pain into a fiery red lust. He moaned like a slut and Latvia removed the hand, replacing it a moment later, and thrusting into the micro nation Both of them being virgins, this didn't last too long before both of them reached climax, falling into a pile on the blanket.

"That was great." Sealand said, in spite of the ache begging to settle in his lower regions.

"Yeah. Wanna do it again later?"

"Yeah." They stared, naked at the ceasing for a moment, when a nagging question hit his recovering mind.

"Hey-" They both started at the same time.

"You go first." Latvia said, smiling at his partner.

"Well, I was wondering, do you actually like me, or are we only doing this because it feels good?" The micro nation asked, his thick eyebrows curving in desperate inquiry.

"I don't know. I really like you, but we're just kids, right?" They were both confused.

"Well aren't both of us of retiring age, then? I'm in my sixties, and you're much older, so what's the problem?" He said, and the slight elder nodded, wrapping an arm around who he told people was like a little brother to him. Not anymore, he thought. Otherwise this would be fairly creepy.

"That's good. Because I really like you too." Sealand said, falling asleep in the protective arms of his lover.

A/N-Writing this I just kept chanting "They're both over fifty" because I felt like I was writing child porn. The things I do for my readers. I have to go wash my hands, so I hope you enjoyed and will review. Also, I don't think I cleared this up, but I also accept OC's as well as Character x Reader requests. Just don't try and make Israel a money pinching stereotypical Jew, because I won't write it. Sorry, but that's my OC and I won't see her perverted by my own hand. Other than that...pretty much anything.


	8. RomaTai request

This is the Romano Taiwan oneshot requested, so thank you for doing that, and sorry it took so long! Oh, BTW, putting in Russia x China here too.

Taiwan was running from China, who was as usual trying to get her to admit she was his subordinate. She had been refusing for years, though more successfully than her brother, Hong Kong. Probably because he was much more quite and relaxed than her. She looked around the house she had wondered into somewhere in Russia running from him, and ran into one of the closets, breathing hard in the dark, coat-filled space.

"Oy! This is my hiding closet!" an Italian accent said, and she turned on the light to find an angry Romano hiding in there with her.

"This isn't your house, so you can't claim a closet to hide in." She spat back.

"Russia keeps trying to make me become fucking one with him, and I had to hide here so that Feliciano could escape. Get out before you get me caught." He whisper-shouted.

"Same with China, so shut up. There's plenty of room for the both of us." She retorted, both of them glaring at each other.

"I can't find her..." They heard China's voice.

"I will help you, Da?" Russia's voice said, slightly closer.

"I'd rather you help me in other ways." It was nearly into the bedroom adjacent to their closet, and Taiwan turned off the light hurriedly and shoved the male into the pile of sweaters in the corner, farthest from the door. They both breathed heavily as their adrenaline raced.

They heard shuffling, and stayed perfectly still.

"Yao..." The Russian moaned, and they both blushed as they realized what was going on. Russia and China were having sex right outside, and they had to decide whether or not it was worth stopping them. If they did put a halt in the procedure, then they would be caught , something neither wanted to happen. If they allowed it to continue, well, they had to hear it.

Taiwan moved to get up, but then they both realized one important factor. Their curls were tangled, and tingles ran down both of their spines at the stimulation of those special little hairs. She tried to get them separated, but didn't do anything except make them even more tied up. Both of them were getting aroused by this point, and the moaning outside wasn't helping.

"If we get off, the curls will straighten, and we can get out." Romano told her, and she nodded, which of course pulled on the hair again.

As if they were being held at gunpoint the two of them desperately started kissing, neither of them having gotten much lately anyway. It was like seven minutes in heaven, only the time was indefinite, and they had to screw to get out. He moved slowly, and quietly as possible into a topping position and slipped his tongue into her mouth. Say what you want about the Italians, but they were good with the ladies, and good with anything involving their mouths. He soon had her tearing up with pleasure and bit back moans, and he was barely any better off. He smiled, his hazel eyes turning dark with unbridled lust.

She decided to pay him back, and reached a warm, dainty hand into his slacks, taking hold of his manhood with incredible skill. He sucked on her neck, enough to leave a small hickey, and she stopped her movements and glared at him. She would have to explain that to her family now, especially Japan, the poor guy. He'd have a stroke at the thought of her doing this.

"Sorry." He breathed, even though he wasn't. He pulled down her top, and sucked on a piece of her chest that it covered. She arched up into him and gasped, pulling further on their curls. He grinned, and just pulled away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She scolded, and he put a finger over her mouth.

"You were being too loud. I can't get caught, and neither can you." He said, his mouth using logic, even though his brain was thinking mischievously He was sure that should he actually be captured, Spain would come save him, or his brother would bug the potato bastard until he did. In the event none of that worked, America was always looking for ways to piss of the Russians, and this would be a wonderful opportunity. He had very little to lose, other than pride. She, however, didn't have the same situation.

"I hate you." She spat, and he just kept grinning.

"Maybe you should be the one getting me off then? I'm a lot quieter." his Cheshire grin disturbed her, but she did as suggested. She crawled atop him and unbuttoned his shirt. He smiled, and bit his lip. She ground her pelvis to his, feeling great though both were clothed. She was kissing and sucking up and down his chest, stopping at each of his risen buds to suck on them like a hoover. He was breathing heavily, as were the people outside.

"How's it feel, bastard." She asked, continuing her ministrations and undoing his pants. She pulled his member out through his boxers and he nodded.

"You're getting there." He replied. She narrowed her eyes, and moved her head lower, enveloping his cock in her mouth. He bit through his lip, and blood dripped from his mouth, but she continued any way. He felt the coil in his stomach ready to come undone, and he tried to warn her, but before he could, he found himself completely engulfed in Taiwanese throat, and he came with a mostly contained moan. He sat gasping for air while she struggled not to cough at the sudden invasion of her throaty tried to pull away, but only his curl had straightened, and as he calmed back down, it started to curl up again. She was frustrated, and angry.

She took his soft dick in her hand and jerked it until he was staring at her and it was hard again. She pulled her own pants down and sat upon him, reviling in the feeling of being filled. He gasped at the feeling of begin inside a woman for the first time in a good while. She rode him hard and fast, and he dug his nails into Russia's sweaters to keep from making any noise. He could still hear the couple outside, and with every movement, she pulled their curls. She was obviously enjoying this, as her juice ran down into the fabric beneath them, and he once again felt the coiling. She shoved her tongue into his mouth, matching the movements of her body with her mouth. He moved back, and she twirled the hair at the nape of his neck in her small fingers.

She was nearly there, and she knew it, but if they didn't cum at the same time, they'd have to do it all over again. She pulled her mouth away.

"Cum with me, Romano." She whispered in his ear, and he nodded.

"Three." He started, and she rode him harder. "Two." She twisted their curls in her fingers. "Three" At the word, both of them went off, and the curls, as well as their bodies, unwound. They were able to pull away from each other, and sat on the ground, gasping for air. They realized that the room next to them was silent.

Taiwan composed herself and peaked out.

"They're gone, come on." She said, and he got up and followed her. They jumped out of the window, into the grassy field of a Russian summer.

"He he Home free." Romano called, starting to run off.

"Wait!" She yelled after him, and he turned. "Gimme your phone."

"Sure." He pulled out the touchscreen device, amazingly not broken after all that. She put her number in, and handed it back.

"Call me when you're lonely." She said, walking away herself. He smiled and thought that he would be calling her very soon.

A/N- Sorry if that wasn't how the requester imagined it, but I tried. Hope you enjoyed, will review and read my other stories!


	9. PruCan request

This is a PruCan request. Did anyone notice that you can pair Prussia and America with anyone and it makes sense? And how the world meeting is a wonderful place to start a one shot, because then you don't have to think of another reason why all of these people are together at the same time? Anyway, I hope you enjoy and review.

Prussia was at the world meeting. It was boring, and he was glad they didn't have them when he still ran the country. But last week Italy and Germany had gotten married, and so their brothers were attending the meeting while they were on their honeymoon. He thought they didn't need one, seeing as how they had been going at it like rabbits months before the wedding. He walked in and looked for his seat, ironically next to Russia. He fucking hated Russia, and how could you blame him after the cold war. If he had to make that man one more cup of tea, he'd go postal. He sat down and realized that Russia was a lot higher than he should be.

"Hey, Russia! You're sitting on Canada!" He shouted, kicking the large man from the smaller North American. There was a chorus of "Who"s and he face-palmed.

"No need to just kick him like that." China scowled.

"He was sitting on the poor guy. You alright, Canada?" He held a hand out for the smaller man to stand up.

"Thanks, Prussia." He smiled nervously, expecting the albino to ask something in return. That's what he was used to since his brother was the only one who really ever helped him in the past.

"Not a problem. Tell me if that bastard hurts you again." he said, sitting down in his chair and putting his feet up on the table.

See, they had a previous history. Since Canada and Russia were connected at the time, as Alaska wasn't around, Prussia could sometimes sneak over to Canada's place for some down time, or to ask America what the hell was taking so long. Canada, however, was just happy to be remembered, something Prussia never failed to do in spite of his ego. Both of them could deal with the other's faults, and so they were a fairly logical pair. Everyone knew that they were good friends, but no one knew what went on behind the scenes, so to speak.

After the meeting, Canada handed Kumajiro to his brother, and got into Prussia's car.

"Thanks for getting Russia off of me. He's really heavy." Canada said, driving back to his place.

"I'll find any reason to annoy that guy, but I'd kick anyone in the ass for you." He said, showing uncharacteristic emotion.

"Well then, hero, how about I make you some pancakes when we get home, hm?"

"I do love those pancakes of yours." He smiled, thinking of the many other thinks he could do with maple syrup. He was a member of the bad touch trio after all, and that pretty much shouted that he had a naughty mind, though not quite as kinky as his french friend, something he had learned the hard way. A way that left him sore for weeks after. But enough about that, He was more focused on how to get his little maple leaf out of that suit, without him going into anything else.

"Here you go, Gil." The blonde said, walking in with an apron over his newly changed into hoodie and jeans. Jeans that hugged his ass quite well, Gilbert noted with approval.

"Danke, Mattie. You make the best food no matter what that idiot France says." He said, and in his opinion it was the god honest truth. He enjoyed these little breakfast circles better than all the fine food his friend could make for him, mostly because it was Mathew who made them.

"These are really good, but do you have any of that wonderful syrup of yours?"

"Yeah, stay here and I'll be back in a second." He went into the kitchen, and Prussia's plan went into action. He smiled as he stripped off his clothing, and placed the stack of three pancakes over his crotch and his nipples. He leaned against the chair, and waited for his lover to walk in. He did so a moment, later, and his cheeks flushed. While they had been having sex for years now, poor little Mathew always acted like a virgin, and Gilbert found it adorable.

"W-what is that?" He asked, nearly dropping the bottle of syrup in his right hand.

"Don't you like what you see?" He asked, before keseseing.

"O-of course I do. It's just a little...unexpected, is all." He had to search for that word.

"If it's too kinky for you, then you can tell me." He said, worried. He really wanted to have some fun, but he would rather be celibate than push Canada away.

"It isn't that, but, well, I just feel like you always come up with everything, and I don't bring anything to the table." He said, looking away as even his collar started blushing redder than the leaf on his flag.

"Well, I could put you on the table, and that would be plenty for me." He suggested, wiggling albino eyebrows.

"I know, but I still want to try something." He explained, and red eyes lit up. Finally his lover was coming out and telling him what he wanted.

"Anything, Mattie." he got up, and took the pancakes off.

"Well, I was thinking we could use the syrup..." He trialed off, and Gilbert liked where this was headed.

"If you're embarrassed to say it out loud, you can just show me." he told him, obviously quite curious as to what his lover had in mind.

He nodded, and stopped off everything he was wearing, and approached Gilbert with the warm syrup. He bit his lip, as if waiting for permission, which the albino gave in the form of a nod. He poured the sticky liquid over his body, paying extra attention to the areas that were most sensitive. He then proceeded to lick it off. Yes, drop by drop it was removed by a surprisingly talented tongue Gilbert gasped as the muscle went over his left nipple, and stroked it until it was cleaned of any remaining residue. He was gripping the sides of the chair so hard he thought he would break them as the mouth descended further, onto his sweet-covered cock. Around and around in sanity-killing circles until that space was clean and he moved onto the next half and inch or so. As the last bit was licked from his balls, they shot more, less artificial liquid into the waiting mouth of his Canadian lover, and he tensed up, only to stay lax a moment later staring into space until his vision returned. When he could see again, he saw that Mathew had been jerking himself off while going through the whole thing, and so he was taken care of as well. Good thing to, Gilbert didn't think he could speak, much less fuck properly. He smiled, and decided to give his lovely little maple leaf a thank you gift later. When his muscles decided to work again.

Yeah, I think this is the shortest oneshot so far, and maybe even total, but whatever. I decided to make them already a couple and so it was fairly short. Thank you for reading, and I hope you will review and even request your own one shot.


	10. SpaMano Smut Request

This is another Spamano request, but this time with the sexy times. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Romano was simply walking down the street, not stalking Spain or anything, or waiting for the blackened sky to let down a torrential rain so that he would have an excuse to see him. The potato bastard was over at his house, and he didn't want to be near him, so he left him and Veniziano alone and started walking. It was only logical that his legs would carry him to a place that was familiar to him, in spite of the long distance. Yes, our little Romano was in a serious case of denial, but that's to be expected of the emotionally retarded Italian.

As the rain began to fall, he walked toward the large house of his Spanish friend, and secret crush. So secret, in fact, he wouldn't even admit it to himself. He knocked on the door, thoroughly soaked and shivering. When Spain answered it, he immediately ushered him in, and ran into the kitchen to get him some hot chocolate. Even as a grown man, about twenty-three in appearance, he still hated the taste of both coffee and tea. When he came back in with the steaming beverage, Romano was shivering violently, and after handing him the drink, he went to the large fireplace and lit the wood there, the kind that was guaranteed to light. The temperature started going up, and Romano's tremors started going down.

"Why were you in that weather, Lovi?" He asked, putting his arms around the younger and trying to transfer body heat.

"The potato bastard was at my place, so I took a walk. I lost track of where I was going and wound up here as the rain fell." He sort-of lied. It wasn't truly a lie, because he had convinced himself that this was what occurred, even though he had gotten into his best casual clothes that he only wore when he went to visit Spain.

"You should have stopped somewhere when you saw the sky like this. The last thing we want is for you to be getting sick, Romano."

"I said I wasn't paying attention, bastard!" he shouted back.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I was just worried about you, okay? Try not to do it again." Seeing as how the shivering had stopped, he pulled away and looked into hazel eyes with his own green ones.

"Of course I won't want to get stuck in the rain again. I'm not stupid or something." He mumbled, looking away.

"Well, I was getting ready for bed when you came in, so if you need me, that's where I'll be. You know where the guest bedroom is, right?" He smiled, as was his nature. The Italian nodded, knowing that he also had a few outfits here as well. It was his home away from home, and with him coming over more and more, it would soon just be his home if the trend kept up.

He went up the stairs a few minutes later, after putting out the fire so that the house didn't burn down. He went into the room that was practically claimed as him. In the dressers, he had his clothes, and he took out a set of pajamas. A green set made of warm, soft wool. Just as he had finished dressing and brushed his teeth with the extra toothbrush kept there in case he decided to spend the night, he heard a clap of thunder.

This was a major problem. You see, Romano was terrified of Lightning, and thunder was a sure sign that this was right outside. He sat in his bed, and pulled the soft blanket over his head, shivering with fear this time, not cold. It may have been that time when he was younger, and he and Spain were going around the country side when a lightning storm hit, and caught a tree close to them on fire. He had seen early the destructive power of the natural event, and had read plenty about the people killed and maimed by it, it was only natural that he should fear it. But the blanket was offering him little comfort, not that it ever did. By this time he and his brother would be curled up together, taking mild comfort in each other, though both of them were scared out of their wits. He thought about how Veniziano was likely snuggling with his hunky Potato bastard, and sleeping soundly. He cursed as he realized his only option of sleep. Snuggling with the tomato bastard. Not that the back of his mind wasn't please with this development, but Romano, as stated above, has never been very good with any emotion bar anger, and so this was quite the unpleasant situation for him.

He stood and grabbed a pillow, somehow less afraid so long as he clutched it like he was choking someone out. He walked down the hallway to where the Spaniard was no doubt sleeping peacefully, having never had an issue with thunder. Now that he thought about it, Romano realized that Spain never had much of a problem with anything, except maybe money management skills. He worried, and fretted, but never had he seen him truly afraid.

What Romano didn't know, is that he had merely not been there the time when Spain had been terrified. In fact, he had been shouting profanities to Turkey, which is what made Spain scared in the first place. Not that Romano was cursing, no, he was convinced that the boys first words were bastard and fuck, but that he was in the hands of Turkey. That he had failed to keep him safe, and now something terrible could be happening to him. Merely the thought of losing his best friend was enough to make him want to drop to the floor and weep. But instead, he had acted brave and rode a bull to save him. Of course that had ended with him having nothing to his name save a multitude of bruises from his crazy ass queen, but he thought that it was worth it just to be able to see the real Romano. The one who came into his room to thank him. Not to scream for food, or yell at him, but the Romano that the fake Romano kept hidden away in a cage until extenuating circumstances allowed him to break out.

Romano walked into Spain's bedroom, and found him laying under his sheets, bare chest exposed to the world, and more importantly, Romano. He walked to the side of the bed and thought for a moment. Was it really worth it? And then another bolt of lightning hit, and he jumped under the covers, clinging to his former boss like he was part koala.

"Why are you to be in my bed, Romano?" The Spaniard asked, rubbing tired eyes.

"There's thunder outside." He mumbled into his pillow.

"The thunder? You are still afraid of it, then? I thought you would have grown out of that by now." He said, and then shrugged, placing a strong arm around the younger male.

"You aren't angry then?" He wondered, and got a quizzical smile in return.

"Why would I be angry, Romano? I love it when you show your emotions to me. It's much better than when you hide them behind curse words and shouting." He replied, his green eyes sparkling.

"You don''t think it's cowardly?" He was shocked. He had always thought Spain considered him a burden that he was too good natured to shed.

"No, everyone has something that they are afraid of, Romano. Even Germany, I'm sure."

"What are you afraid of, then?"

"That's easy, Romano. I'm afraid of you being taken away from me." He said softly, and in a tone that left no room for skepticism.

"What? Why would you be afraid of that?"

"Because... I love you, Romano." He admitted, even he sounding insecure.

"Why would you love me? Are you stupid or something?"

"No, well, I don't think so. I love you because you're a good person, and I've been lucky enough to see that part of you." He pressed his forehead to Romano's, looking hopeful. Romano blushed, wondering if he should say it. If he even could say it. He tried to, but his mouth wouldn't make the words. He took a deep breath, and used actions instead. He pressed his uncooperative lips to the Spaniard's. Green eyes flew open in surprise, but he was soon responding with movements of his own. He pulled the other closer to him, sucking lightly on the smaller's lower lip.

Romano's breath quickened, and his fingers curled against the tan skin of the other's chest. A tongue was pushed into his mouth, molesting the cavern, every inch receiving attention. He wondered who it was Spain had been making out with to be this good, especially since he had a feeling that his skills were sorely lacking. After all the flirting he did, this was his first kiss, and it was quickly becoming more.

Spain's hand went under his shirt at his lower back, and then under the waistline of his pants. He didn't protest, but rather started undoing the buttons of the top, to press his bare chest against the other man's. Their mouths were still connected, and More than tongues were protruding into the other at this point.

"Romano..." Spain breathed against his face, smelling of strawberries? Must be his toothpaste, not that Romano cared what flavor his toothpaste was.

"S-Spain." he responded, locking half lidded eyes.

"I love you, Romano." He said, putting his mouth on the juncture between neck and collar bone and sucking. He felt the man below him jerk up, and heard a wonderful moan come from his lips. Deciding he liked this sound, he moved his mouth to the curl, twirling it around in his mouth. He was surprised when Romano seemed to be reaching the edge with no other stimulation. He smiled and kept going, until with a cry of his name, Romano came, still in his pants.

"That was..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence properly. Veniziano had always been better than him at articulation.

"What are you talking about, Romano. We are just getting started." He said with a grin. Not his usual goofy smile, but a come hither grin that left Romano wanting what he was promised.

The curl was released, and his pants were pulled down. He stripped off the rest of their clothing, and locked his mouth once again with Romano's. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a small bottle, and poured liquid onto his hand. Don't be surprised that Spain has lube in his drawer, he is a member of the Bad Touch Trio, even if he is the lesser offender of the three.

When his fingers were coated, he continued his dance in Romano's mouth, while a middle finger was placed inside of the other's hole. He gasped at the intrusion, but was easily persuaded to forget when his tongue was taken into the other's mouth and sucked on like a lollipop. A second finger joined the first, and this led to discomfort.

"Shh, Romano. It will feel good soon, I promise." He whispered in the other's ear, warm breath eliciting a shiver of pleasure from his little tomato.

He moaned as he stretched further to accommodate a third finger. He was in pain now, but the constant assault on his sense kept it to the back burner. One hand squeezing his ass, the other in it, while a mouth was doing magical things to his. He didn't even notice when the fingers were replaced with a dick, he was so enraptured in the feelings of making love. That is, until another hand moved to his curl and gave it a good pull. Then he was brought into focus, and realized that it was Spain's hips and not his hand that were making the movements he was feeling in his lower regions. He wanted to bite his lip, but two tongues lay between his teeth and either lip, so his mewling came out unbarred. This soon turned into moans that would make a harlot blush, and finally, a cry as he covered their chests in his cum. He was followed soon by Spain, who fell down beside him, panting for breath even harder than him.

"Spain..." He blushed even further, trying once again to form the words.

"You don't have to say it, Romano. I already know." He assured him, but the other man shook his head.

"No, I want to say it. I love you, Spain." He threw out, like it was painful. Spain thought that it probably was, and may even be the first time he had said those words to anyone. He just decided that he would keep him saying them until it no longer hurt, because the last thing he wanted was for Romano to hurt, especially if he could stop it.


	11. FrUK request

This is a wonderful FrUK request which I am more than happy to fill. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy, review and request your own!

The meeting was terribly dull. There wasn't even the usual fighting going on because a food issue had come up, actually spurring Japan to give a damn and not agree with America, who thought that overfishing could be solved with a giant hero who went around playing matchmaker with fish to get them to have more baby fish. Now France had to listen to the Asian actually care, and so give a real speech with facts and everything. He like the usual better. Then he got to strangle AKA grope England through nearly the entire thing. Now they couldn't exchange a high five, much less inappropriate touching without people getting suspicious.

"I'm sorry to interrupt a real point, Japan, but your eight minutes are over. You may make another speech after we break." Germany said, hating that he had put a time limit on speeches now that one was being made toward the benefit of the world. They were breaking for siesta, as the meeting was being held in Italy, and Italy had given the scheduling duties to his brother who had passed them to Spain who had added in two hours for napping. Japan sighed, but did as mandated, and sat back down. Seeing as how no one else had anything to say, America suggested a food break, and Italy seconded that motion, as he was always hungry. Most of them got up, except France and England.

"What, this food not good enough for you, Frog Face?" England snarked, and France just laughed.

"No, I just don't want any food right now." He said back. Perfectly normal words, but it was the tone that set England on edge. That was the tone for when he was going to do something stupid and reckless, and usually involving the Brit himself. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and fighting his growing migraine In fact, he was so focused on his headache, he didn't notice the cause sneak under the table cloth with a suppressed rape laugh.

"Where is France?" America asked when they all came back in, and England shrugged.

"Probably doing something stupid." He said, looking away as if he didn't want to be associated with any of them.

"He never does anything important anyway." China said, obviously not favoring the Frenchman

So without France present and accounted for, the meeting was restarted and Japan moved to the table again. He was speaking, and England was listening intently. Then the part of France's stupid plan where he was involved involuntarily came to pass. He felt his slacks being unbuttoned. His face reddened as the fly was pulled down as well, and he felt the tell-tale stubble that only the Frenchman made sexy tickle an area that did not need to be touched with this many people around.

Of course, at the moment, people were paying attention to Japan, except America and Russia, who were glaring at each other from across the table, so he was temporarily saved from anyone noticing him. He tried to discreetly hit the man below, but he deftly avoided it as he teased him into arousal. He grit his teeth, realizing that short of freaking out and allowing everyone to know that he was in fact enjoying this very much by his hard-on, then he had no other option that to sit there and take it, hopefully to be made to cum before the meeting adjourned and he had to sit there awkwardly, not getting up. It was only fifteen minutes until they broke for that ridiculous siesta, and the Frenchman was the kind of person to draw this out. One thing was for sure, the meeting was no longer boring.

France smiled under the table. The stuffy surroundings had been far worth it, and he was enjoying himself more than he could ever remember. While the others thought they hated each other, they had a sort of love-hate thing behind the scenes. Why else would he have put him in that damn dress so long ago? He had completely changed fashion, just to get a better look at England's ass. Yeah, it was kind of terrible, but who gives a shit? He was France after all. No one expected anything more from him. Well, England was expecting much more, but that was in a much different way. He nearly laughed as a sharp breathe was exhaled, and he was kicked as secretly as possible. That only made him want to get the other back, however, so he just gave him a hard suck, which made him grip the wooden chair so hard it creaked.

"Yo, England, are you alright, dude. You're face is all red and stuff." America asked, and if his face could have gotten redder, it would have.

"Fine. Just a little hot in here is all." He answered as calmly as he could as the Frenchman did his work. He was more focused on how he was going to get him back. That bastard was going to get it, whatever it was, so hard the next time they were alone. He sat, fidgeting while the others went back to the meeting.

"And what do you think, England?" Germany asked, and he realized that he was not only being addressed, but asked about something he payed no attention to. He went with his usual response.

"I disagree with America." He said quickly.  
"Bro, I haven't even said what I think yet." They all looked at him straggly

"Are you sure you do not have a fever, England-San?" Japan asked, clearly concerned for his friend.

"Yes. I just know that he'll say something stupid, like always." Yeah, that sounded good. He hoped. His brain was a bit short on blood at the moment, all of it being directed somewhere else.

After that, the rest of the meeting was the normal bickering, and chaos ensued. Everyone forgot about England and the fever he may, or may not have. He sat there, gritting his teeth until Finally Germany yelled. The man under the table inhaled sharply in surprise, but Britain's member was blocking his windpipe at the time, so it just gave him a jolt of pleasure, the physical response of which was hidden in the surprise of the others.

"Just go to Siesta. This meeting is adjourned." The overbearing blonde man said, walking out of the room. Everyone followed him, except England of course. When the room was empty he reached under the table and pulled the other man up by his hair.

"Not the hair." He said, getting out of the table.

"What the fuck is your bloody problem?" He hissed.

"What, I was just spicing things up a bit." he claimed, but the Brit wasn't buying it. He had grown up dealing with Scotland's bullshit, and the Frenchman was a much worse bullshitter than his brother.

"You want it spicy, Frog?" He asked, an intimidating aura surrounding him. But curiosity killed the cat, or Frog rather, and he instead answered:

"Of course."

Without further warning, he was dragged into the closet full of janitorial supplies. He was shocked as he was stripped down before anyone knew what had happened. He yelped in surprise when Britain shoved a finger coated in his own precum into the underused ass. France was almost always on top in their little fiascoes, and this was defiantly a turn around. It was far from gentle, in fact, he was feeling more pain than anything.

Britain was using him for his own pleasure, something that both scared and exited the Frenchman. As the dick was shoved inside of the other man, he nearly shouted in pain. One benefit to not actually being lovers was that you could be a little rougher, a fact that Britain was taking advantage of. Soon, the rough treatment had France panting with a hand around his member and a mouth on that little curl he tried to hide with longer hair, just like China.

"Cum with me, France." England whispered, and he did just that, all over the closet wall as he was filled himself.

The two of them collected themselves panting, and walked out of the closet. England was horrified to find Japan, looking like he had seen one of those odd little monsters he had. In reality, his favorite pen had been left, and he didn't want it to get taken, so he had come back for it.

"I can-" Britain started, but was stopped with a calm hand held up, and a knowing look by his Asian friend.

"No need. I just thought that France-San would be the Seme is all." He said, walking out of the room, leaving two Europeans in embarrassed shock.

A/N- So these requests keep getting kinkier, I swear. Anyway, here we are, a FrUK kind of poorly written, but whatever. Apparently at least a handful of people like my writing, since they keep requesting. Ayumi Kudou, in particular seems to quite enjoy giving me the hetero pairings, even though he/she won't use a real profile. I wonder if they are really all of my reviewers, and they just use different profiles based on the kinkiness. Hm... anyway, I hope you enjoyed and will review, and/or request.


	12. SwitsLeich

A/N- So this came to me when I was in the car listening to the Lynard Skynard song. I thought it fit this story. Anyway, here's what happens when I have spare time.

Liechtenstein was sitting at the bar that she was barely old enough to be in, waiting for her adoptive brother to bring the car around. It was her eighteenth birthday in nation years, drinking age in Switzerland, and Vash had decided that he would let her go out and get drunk just this once so she knew what it was like, as long as he was there and sober to make sure she was okay. What he didn't know was that France had decided to invite himself along and was waiting for the moment when the innocent and sheltered little girl would be both drunk and alone. As soon as the gun toting blonde was gone, a poor description in this nation, he made his move.

" I heard your brother telling you that he wanted you to experience all the wonders of being an adult." He said, his pervert laugh following shortly after.

"Yes. And why does that interest you?" See, she wasn't fully opposed to what he was suggesting. She'd been trying to hit on her brother for longer than most people were alive, and he had done nothing but pat her on the head and send her along. If he wouldn't be with her, at least France would.

"Because I can show you those wonders better than _anyone_ else. I am the nation of love, after all." He lifted one eyebrow and the corner of his mouth.

"Well, I do like to learn new things, but what if brother didn't want me to learn this quite yet?"

"You're your own woman now. You can do whatever you damn well please." He responded, smirking.

"True enough. I suppose I should tell him I'll be going home with you then?" If he was willing to face her brother, than maybe it would be worth it, but she could never be with a coward. Especially when it would be her first time.

"I am assuming he doesn't have his long range guns here?"

"I always have my rifle, you perverted bastard, so get your filthy hand off my girl." said angry "brother" snarled, and everyone heard the chick-chick of a gun being readied.

"Of course. Well, here you are. I'm not touching her." France put his hands up, surrendering immediately as per usual.

"Come here, Lili." He said, gesturing for her to go with him. But she stood her ground.

"Why? I'm an adult, and when you won't look at me like that, why can't I go with someone who does?"

"Who said that I don't look at you like that?" He raised an eyebrow that was still behind the sight of his gun.

"Because I've tried to flirt with you and you always shut me down!" She stamped her foot, breaking the stiletto heel she had insisted on wearing, and putting her off balance.

"So I'm not a dirty pedophile like France. I was waiting until you were of age so that I could court you properly. Unlike this bastard who waits until he thinks I won't shoot him to take advantage of you. Yeah, you're still in danger of getting a bullet in that thick head of yours."

"Well, it is pretty big, but how would you know that?" The Frenchman's mind was still in the gutter, and Vash grinned.

"I was talking about the other one, but good idea." The gun lowered slightly, and France turned pale.

"So then…" Lili started.

"Can we have this conversation in private?" He asked her nicely, and then turned back to the blonde man. "You have three seconds to get out of range of this gun, and pray for your luck that I need to have a very important conversation with her." While one would assume police would be called in this situation, every patron of that bar knew that Vash was trigger happy, but never actually hit anyone. He only threatened and shot glasses next to people, so no one was worried that he would kill this guy.

France was gone in moments, and Vash put the gun away, his expression softening as he led his charge the short distance to the car. She was still drunk, not as hammered as France thought she was, but still intoxicated, and she wondered if her caretaker would just put her to bed like always because of it.

"I love you, Lili." He just blurted while driving.

"Like a sister or…"

"I _love _you. Like I said, I just didn't want to be a pedophile."

"I love you too, br- Vash."

"If we're going to be together, you will have to learn not to call me brother. It will sound creepy, and it's kind of a turn off to feel incestuous.

"I know. I'll try. You know I'm not that drunk, brother." She told him, as they pulled into their driveway.

"I hope not, or what I'm about to do would be fairly wrong, and could backfire worse than an old gun." He said, leaning over to her and placing a small kiss on her lips, the first of many before pulling away and getting out of the car altogether. She was confused until he ran around, and pulled her door open. He unbuckled her seatbelt, and picked her up bridal style.

"Wha-"

"Your shoe is broken, remember?" He whispered in her ear, making her shiver. She had that weird feeling in her stomach that only happened when he was close to her.

"y-ye-yeah." She stuttered, and then cursed at herself for doing so.

"I love how you stutter when your nervous." At this point, he was balancing her as he opened the door, and then again when he closed it, OCD not letting him leave it unlocked even for the sake of romance.

"I ha-hate it." She said, looking away from him.

"You know, I could just put you to bed, and we could pretend none of this ever happened. Honestly, this is the last point where I'm certain to give you the option. He said, looking her very seriously in the eyes.

"No!" She exclaimed. "I want to be with you, in every way. Please don't go back to treating me like some little kid you just have to deal with." Tears welled in her eyes at the thought.

"I'm sorry I ever made you feel like that. But I'll make you feel like a woman tonight." He vowed, as he carried her into the bedroom.

He plopped her down on the soft comforter, her face red and his getting there. He took a deep breath as he started unbuttoning his white collared shirt. She gulped and watched. He allowed the thin cotton to fall to the floor, his undershirt following suit. He got self conscious as she openly gawked at his perfectly chiseled chest. His upper body toned from archery and shooting practice, and his lower from the exercise he did before leaving his room each morning.

"Why are staring at me like that? It's making me uncomfortable." He said, covering himself with his arms and looking away. He was shocked when he felt small, warm hands on his forearms, moving them. He looked to se sea foam eyes hooded with what he could only describe as lust.

"Because, silly. I like what I see." She smirked, an expression that he had never seen on her face, but he hoped to see very much in the future. Just only in private, if the stirring in his privates was any hint.

"Well, are you the only one who gets a show, then?" He asked, regaining his confidence enough to reach behind her and slowly unzip her usual pink dress. She blushed deeper, now a darker shade than the garment he was removing, and redder than the blood that caused blushing when it fell to the floor to reveal simple white underclothing, and stockings leading to the heels she was still wearing.

"I-I should have worn something better…" she mumbled, pushing her pointer fingers together in a nervous gesture.

"Doesn't matter. I'm just gonna take 'em off anyway." The deep tone of his voice as he shoved her back on the bed in the gentlest of ways made her heart beat so fast she thought she was gonna explode.

"But you're still wearing yours." She whined as he slowly peeled off the bra that held her substantial, but not obnoxiously so, breasts.

"Then do something about it." He smirked and leaned back, allowing her to see the hard-on he had developed through his trousers. She gulped and unzipped the pants with tentative fingers. She slid them down and her eyes went wide when she saw what a man hid below. Especially since her lovers happened to be quite large.

"W-what do I do now?" She asked, assuming that with all of this taking charge he knew what he was doing.

"I-I have no idea. I'm as new at this as you are. B-but I think we could just do what feels right." He suggested. He had never gotten much, what with his proper gentlemanly nature, not to mention the fact that he was essentially a ruthless mercenary for most of his life, and a corrupt criminal with his no-questions-asked banks for the rest. He'd been waiting for Lili to be of age for most of the time she had been with him, and he never watched or read any pornography, considering it a disgusting, female demeaning and pointless. Basically, they were a coupe of clueless virgins, trying to actually make real love. Hopefully it would just come to them.

"I could ask Hungary. She seems to have a lot of experience, what with both Austria and Prussia constantly chasing her." She said, her innocent look only making him want to ravage her more.

"No, I think I can handle it." The man said, not wanting her to go around telling everyone about it. She laid down, waiting for his instruction. He took a deep breath, and took an experimental lick at her nipple. She bucked up, gasping. _Mental note: boobies are sensitive_. He thought, deciding that this was as good a place as any. He sucked on one, while his left hand played with the other.

"V-Vash…Please…" She panted, and he noticed that she was moving her hips in spite of the fact that nothing was there.

"Please what, Lili? Use your words." He couldn't believe he was doing this. This was the kind of thing he'd expect from France, not a decent guy like himself. But he couldn't stop himself no matter how many times he told himself that he was burning in eternal hell for it. The response was always "but I'm semi-immortal and incredibly horny."

"I- I don't know, but do something. I feel all weird down there. Please, just do something." She begged, humping the air. He took pity on both she and himself as he kissed her before pressing his head to her entrance.

"That, yes that please that!" She shouted, impaling herself on his dick. He bit his lip so hard it bled, and then he was shocked at how easily it had gone in. She _was_ a virgin right?

"H-have you done this before?" He asked, worried that he had been far to lenient on the people that she had been allowed to hang out with.

"No, at least not with anyone else. I-I would touch myself a lot when you would brush me off." She said, and this only made him pulse inside her. Good enough for him.

He started thrusting like mad, no matter how much the woman below him told him to slow. He couldn't help it. The animal that he had kept in a small kennel for decades was alive and well, and freed from it's bonds. It was but mere minutes before she tightened around him, shoving him over the edge with a car.

They lay there, desperately catching their breath, slipping into slumber.

"I love you, Lili." Vash mumbled, unable to move his mouth for more. She simply snuggled closer in response, falling asleep.

A/N- So that got out of hand quickly. It was originally supposed to be a stand-alone fluff one shot, but now I suppose it should be here. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and forgive me for not answering any requests recently


	13. AustraixSwitzerland request(sorta)

Britain smiled darkly to himself. He had heard a million rumors, saying that nearly every country liked him in a sexual manner, and he was going to settle it today. He had made a truth serum, and was currently putting it into the coffee, as well as all the other refreshments, even the water. Soon, everyone would be blurting out their deepest secrets, completely unable to lie even in the slightest, even by omission. It would solve these problems, and he'd finally knew where he stood with everyone. Yes, this would likely end up embarrassing nearly everyone, but the odds on just one of these people actually being in love with him was slim to none, so it wasn't like they'd be fighting over him, right?

But it wasn't only feelings for him that were hidden. In fact, there were a good number of secrets that one would have to deal with on this day due to England's selfishness, and the most dramatic would be that of Switzerland.

The meeting went on, and it seemed unusual. Japan disagreed with America, and America was being unusually kind to England. Germany excused himself after confessing his love for Feliciano for some unknown reason. Needless to say, the younger Italian followed him out, and they likely proceeded to do the nasty in some poor janitor's closet. The same occurred with Spain and Romano after Spain said "Don't you love me, Romano?" Forcing the other Italian to respond in the positive. It was quite interesting, and yet, England still didn't have his answer. If he was America, he could simply say something like "You all love me, right?" but that went against his character. Then again, he could blame it on the odd things that had made everyone else act out of character already. If Germany could be so out of it, then he could as well, right?

"Alright everyone, settle down. I've got a question from my boss." England said, thinking of the least embarrassing way to put this. "What are your feelings about me?"

"I love you." Seemed to be the embarrassed normal, and nearly all the faces in the room turned red. America just gave a guilty look as he sipped on his individually packaged soda.

"What the hell, you guys?" He said, "Not all of you can have my Iggy!" The American went up to the large browed man, and gave him his best puppy dog eyes.

"You love me, right, Britain?"

"But we were always together, you love me?" France said, grabbing his right arm. Slowly, more and more countries, including Japan, were on top of him, begging for his love and even starting to removed his clothing. Austria and Switzerland were some of the few who were left, and they both got up, glad that they hadn't taken whatever made these people act in such a way. Switzerland was also quite glad he hadn't brought his little sister to this meeting. He would have hated to have to shoot someone when he was in a place where it was illegal to have guns. Of course, he had a pistol in his jacket, but he wasn't supposed to.

They got into a small elevator, and the doors closed. Unfortunately, they were on the 100th floor, and the elevator stopped at every level even when no one was waiting, which they shouldn't be since this building was rented out for the world meeting. But that was America's house for you, making everything way too complicated, except the things that should be.

"So then, that was quite odd, wasn't it?" Austria said, trying to make polite conversation as always. This was usually the part where the gun toting European would say something along the lines of "Shut up, your voice is making me sick" But he couldn't do that, because of the potion that had been in his water. So instead what came out was

"I love you, and your voice is like an angel's." He blushed, and couldn't believe something like that would come out. He had hid his love for the pansy nation for centuries. Why would it come out now?

"Well, that is an interesting development." Austria said, walking closer to him, and putting his fake glasses into his jacket pocket, his eyes half lidded.

"W-what? What are you doing?" Vash asked, not understanding why the other wasn't responding with the disgust he should.

"I'm seducing you. isn't it obvious." Austria cared less that the "I don't know" he had planned didn't come out. He was now aware that the blonde had the same feelings as he did, and he wasn't waiting for everything to turn back to how they were.

"I'd like to say it don't like it…" He started moving toward the other, and lips crashed together. "But I honestly can't" They smashed their faces together again, and Switzerland was shocked when he felt the weight of the other man pushing him into a cage of flesh against the small elevator wall.

"What are you doing? Who says you get to be the man?" Switzerland demanded, frowning. He had never imagined it this way.

"Well, I am a bit used to it, what with being previously married to a woman and all. Besides, I think we both know that I have the most experience with this sort of gun. Don' t worry, I'll make sure you get to shoot." The dark haired partner said, licking the neck of his blonde companion, and slowly unbuttoning the uniform he wore even when everyone else was wearing simple suits.

"D-dammit, you're practically a girl already!"

"I'm a girly man who's about to fuck you until you scream my name, little Switsy." As much as he hated to admit it, Vash was ready to give in, his dick already at full mast under the skilled fingers of the piano man, and his legs were so shaky he doubted he'd be taking charge of much.

"O-only once, pansy!" He submitted, and a jolt ran through him as the other started to suckle on the joint between his neck and shoulder. Without realizing it, he had started gyrating his hips into the Austrian, who responded with a low-toned chuckle.

"This hard already, are we? My my, you're impatient, aren't you?" The level of his voice had become a sexy baritone, and Seafoam eyes were fighting to stay open as clothing was removed, only enough to allow access however, they were still in a public place, after all.

"Can we at least go to your place for this?" The uke asked, sweat forming on his heated skin.

"Ahh, but you'll have regained yourself by then, even become against the idea. And I may never get you to admit that you love me again, and I plan to take full advantage of it." His smirk was both out of character, and extremely attractive.

"Then you should hurry. We're halfway down already." The blonde warned him, and he was true, the elevator counter read 47.

"If you want it hurried…" He was surprised to find that a slightly larger than average cock was now pressed against his ass, pressing into it with a burning sensation.

"W-wait!"

"But we only have so much time, and I haven't the patience." He mumbled an apology as he thrust into the young man before him.

"Fuck…" The blonde cursed, clenching his fists in pain.

"You've always been the tough one, Vash. You can take it, can't you?" He asked, thrusting once more. Vash wanted to respond with "I hate you, stupid pansy" But instead it came out:

"I love you, piano man." Which only urged the man above him on more causing a faster rhythm to develop, and he was beside himself with the feeling of being so completely filled, and was closer than one could imagine. As the man above him gave him a skilled reach-around, he could hold it in no longer.

"Roderick!" he shouted, cum pouring over the both of them. The top man unloaded into the blonde as the bell dinged for them to be on the bottom floor. They were shocked when it opened to reveal none other than Lili, Vash's sweet little sister.

"I didn't know you two were together." Was her only response.

_Stop letting her hang out with Prussia._ Was his mental note at her non-chalantness, and Austria, ever the proper man straightened.

"And why would you be here, young miss?" He was using proper speech as he buttoned up his cum stained pants. Vash was confused. And tired. He composed himself as his little sister explained that he had forgotten to bring Vash his trusty water bottle, because he never trusted France not to rufee the refreshments.

"I have a feeling that could have come in handy. I knew that water tasted too sweet dammit." He growled. "Come on, Lili, we're going home."

"Actually, I wanted to stay the night with Gilbert. I was worried you'd be lonely, but now you have a boyfriend too, so it's fine." She said, innocently.

"Wait, Boyfriend? I need to have a discussion with Prussia…" He said, taking out his gun and forgetting the entire ordeal. But Austria wouldn't. He planned to use it to the fullest.

A/N- so I knew that the person who requested this (and whose name eludes me), said that they didn't want a truth potion, and no heavy intoxication, but I just couldn't see this happening with them both sober. I mean, Austria could have the secret kinky side, but Switzerland is the mercenary with morals, and so I really am sorry. If it isn't satisfactory, I could retry, but I'm hoping that he/she will be happy with it. Sorry, to you, dear requester. (And to all the people who's requests remain unfilled. I just havn't gotten the inspiration, like I did with this one.)


	14. BTT request

"Dude, this party is gonna be totally awesome!" America announced loudly, as most of the people on his enormous guest list had already arrived by the time the music started. In fact, there was only one group of people, who had yet to arrive on time for one of the hero's epic celebrations of his own epic hero-ness.

That group would be none other than the notorious bad touch trio, and Alfred F. Jones decided that it was time to teach them a lesson.

As they arrived, a little over an hour late, they were walking into the huge mansion where the American always threw his huge bashes whenever the mood took him, they found the room completely dark, and seemingly empty. That is, before they each felt a strong hand on them, shoving them into what they were pretty sure was a coat closet.

"That's what you get for being late, bruder." Prussia heard his little brother's voice say, and he could just make out the taller brother's smile before the dark encompassed them into the clothing covered small space.

"Yeah, you'll learn not to be late to the hero's party, you dastardly villains, have fun in prison!" America shouted, before his laugh could be heard retreating, as music started blasting again.

"Dammit, I knew we shouldn't have waited on France. He's always the reason we're late. It takes him two hours to do his hair!" Prussia yelled, going to punch the blonde in the face.

"Now, mi amigo, it can't be that bad. Besides, at least the closet is fairly large." Spain said, trying to comfort them.

"Besides, we can skip the lame party and skip straight to the drunken threesome at this point. That's my favorite part anyway." The Frenchman said, referring to their habit of getting hammered and waking up naked together, with no recollection of the previous night, but a pretty good idea what had went down.

"Shut the fuck up, you stupid son of a bitch. This is all your fault, as usual. Man I wish West had shut you up for good back in the damn war."

"We promised not to bring up the war, Prussia. Something about it making you not exist anymore."

"Hey, you stupid bastard!" Prussia got to the man this time, getting a good punch off before the blonde grabbed the one thing more important to the albino that his pride : his dick.

This of course set of a chain reaction. You see, Gilbert hadn't been very successful with the ladies lately, and so he was quite responsive to the just firm enough touch of the target of both lust and displeasure. Spain knew exactly what was going to go down, and sat back to watch, deciding that he could join in at any point.

"That's a quick mood change, little one." France whispered, into the ear of the snowy haired aggressor.

"Shut up and fuck me, stupid fuckass." He hissed in response, knowing that the other would be happy to do just that.

But not quite yet. Gilbert was in for more suspense than an American horror film, and he knew it. First thing to go was the jacket of the suit he had worn. Now there was only the thin cotton of the shirt itself, and through the semi-course material, a talented tongue attacked small, already hardening nipples. As the white cotton became wet, France moved to the twin, leaving Prussia's left nipple exposed and starting to become cold. He hissed in a breath, feeling his dick come to life, straining the stiff fabric of his slacks, which were far from slack at this point. While he wasn't quite the boasted five meters, he was indeed quite large, his dick being eight inches, and plenty thick. Frances was relatively average, but he knew how to use it like no other, having been fucking before they knew what it even was. After that was thoroughly attended to, France moved on to slowly unbuttoning the garment, pulling the thin white shirt from skin pulled taut over muscle and nearly the same shade as it's previous cover.

Every inch of pale flesh received a nip or a suck, and even Spain was getting hard just watching it. There was so much heat being created, that he could feel it from his position a few feet away. He grinned, knowing where this would be going, and removing his own clothing.

"Mind if I join in?" He asked, and France gave one of his creepy smiles. He had hoped about now would be the point where the Spaniard joined in.

"Of course. Now, both of you do as I say. I've got an idea." France said, and Gilbert gulped, hoping this didn't involve him not getting anything, cause then he'd have to shove the bastard through the door, and beat him to his immortal death.

"What is it? Think carefully before answering." Prussia said, scowling in spite of his rock hard cock and his flushed face.

"Oh, calm down. Just sixty-nine each other. I'll take care of the rest." The blonde said, and the other two did as instructed. This was the one and only situation in which France became commanding officer. He had the most skill, after all, and they knew that, even if he teased them for his own mildly sadistic amusement, they'd feel good in the end.

But as Prussia put seven inches of Spanish dick in his mouth, he found that there was to be no more teasing. No sooner than his own cock had been enveloped, did he feel another at his ass. Before he could protest, France rough shoved himself in, and Prussia grimaced in pain as hips started slapping against him as fast as they could. He continued his blowjob, but knew that it was hardly up to standards.

Soon, it began to feel less painful, and more like what he had agreed to, and the Frenchman combined with his tanner friend made him cum so hard he passed out, cock still shoved down his throat.

France sighed, hoping that he would last longer than that. He pulled out, and looked at a mewling Spain with half-lidded eyes. Both of them were closer to release than imaginable, and the tanner of the two simply raised his ass in the air, knowing what was coming. Having been having friend-sex for centuries, France knew exactly where the other's prostate was, and proceeded to hit it immediately. Both were panting hard, and Spain shot his load all over what appeared to be an expensive fur coat, that would likely be ruined now. Oh well. America should have thought of that before he locked the bad touch trio in his closet. He was close as hell, so he just kept thrusting into the limp body beneath him until he followed suit, all of them collapsing in a pile of expensive, and likely unworn, coats.

America was sitting in his living room after the party, when Germany approached him. That was unusual, as this guy was usually gone before the party was over, never one to drink, as he had to drive home. He and Switzerland were the only people who were practical enough not to hire drivers.

"Yo, dude. Whatcha need?" He slurred, having had one to many drinks of various assortment.

"I need to collect my brother, but your closet is locked. I need the key." He said, Japan and Italy waiting behind him, as they were both being driven home by him.

"Fine, but I dunno if you wanna let the little guy see it. Likely to be some scarring mothafuckin shit in that closet." America also had a habit of cursing a lot more when drunk.

"Fine. Italy, wait here." Germany said, as he was handed the key. Of course, nothing could scar Japan, he invented freaky sex, and Germany had learned to sort of shut down his brain when he was in charge of the holocaust.

When the closet was opened, the first thing that came out was the intense odor of sex. Ludwig sighed, and found his brother naked, passed out, and covered in cum. He wanted to bash his head against the wall, and instead chose to simply shut the door again, not going into that mess, even for his big brother. Japan however, had passed out from a nosebleed, and so Ludwig ended up carrying someone anyway.


	15. Giripan lemon

And then the author realized that I have a separate fic that meets a request for this one, so instead of writing another I'll be lazy and just post this one. Sorry, guys. Just wanting to prove that I'm not dead, just kidnapped by Hussie and Homestuck.

Japan was walking down the street, heading to the store for this winter's supply of manga and ice cream. He loved the frozen treat almost as much as America, which was saying something. That was when he unexpectantly ran into his friend Greece, a quiet nation like himself, though he was much more open with thing like sexuality.

"Konichiwa, Nihon." He said, bowing low at the waist.

"Hello, Greece-san, what has brought you here?" Japan asked, wondering why the nation had come here. Usually their meetings were at his house.

"I wanted to see what Japan was like during New Year. You always said it was a big holiday at your place. I hope I'm not imposing to much." He said in his normal monotone.

"Not at all, feel free to stay with me, though I was just headed to the store. Would you like to come with me?" He said, and the Greek nodded, following his tiny friend into the drug store. He was taller than everyone there, and it was a little odd. He wasn't a giant by any means, but here he felt like Godzilla. As they made there way back to Japan's house, Greece was surprised to find it snowing. Living near the Mediterranean, it rarely snowed at his place, and the tiny crystals of frozen water mesmerized him.

"We have to get inside, Greece-san, otherwise we may get caught in the blizzard." Japan said, being as polite as possible while telling his friend to get the f*ck in the house.

"A blizzard?" He asked, hopefully just not realizing that that is indeed what was happening and not that he didn't know what they were.

"Hai, so come on. We could die if we get caught in it." The two rushed back to the smaller nation's home, closing the door right as it started to snow in earnest, already starting to cover the doorway.

"What if the snow covers the door? Then we can't get out."

"That's called being snowed in, and it appears that will be the outcome."

"That doesn't sound good, especially since I only brought the one outfit." He said, looking down at his white tee shirt covered in a light jacket. He was already shivering.

"Why would you not wear something more proper for winter weather?"

"This is appropriate where I live. I didn't know your place would be this much colder." He said, chattering his teeth.

"Hold on, I have blankets. Follow me."

"You don't have air conditioning?"

"It broke yesterday, and no one has come to repair it yet. We will have to do this without technology." He grimaced at the thought. Japan loved his technology, and if would be a terrible snow in without it.

"But if I use your blankets, won't you be cold, Japan?"

"Yes, but you are more unused to this weather."

"We could both be under the blankets. Body heat is good for warming up anyway."

"Hai, but your clothes are soaked, and you need to take them off. I would lend you some of mine, but we are not the same size."

"So. Body heat transfers better when naked anyway." Japan couldn't tell if he was joking. The nation never used inflection, and he defiantly had an open sexuality.

"But it is improper for two men to sleep together, especially naked."

"Why? You bath together naked all the time, right?"

"Well yes, but-"

"And those are strangers, I'm Japan's friend, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"So what's the p-problem?" He was stuttering as his teeth chattered worse, rubbing up and down his arms. Japan couldn't think of a reason at this point, and didn't have time to think about it more. Greece was getting hypothermia, and needed to be warmed up

Besides, it wasn't as if Japan didn't want to see the Greek naked, in fact it had been the object of his fantasy for quite some time. He could even say that he was in love with the quite, strong man. The only problem was that he was embarrassed go his own body. Italy had even thought he'd shrunk his own thing, for crying out loud! He was sure that the Greek never meant any of his suggestions to actually be meant as invitation, just that he had no problem with his body, which was most likely just as magnificent as the rest of him. Japan, however, was skinny, with little muscle and even a little flabby in this time of peace. He wore his Kimono to Greece's house even when it was too hot to do so because it made him look bigger, and broadened his shoulders. He was reluctant to let his friend and crush know that he was really quite the small man.

But he wouldn't let him die just to uphold his own self-image, so he led the man up to his bedroom, telling him to strip and get under the blankets while he went to get extras. He re-entered the room with furry blankets in his arms, and found the Greek already sleeping in his bed. He sighed in relief and got out of his own wet clothes, covering the taller man up, and getting in next to him. He was drifting to sleep himself when He felt the brunette's arm wrap around him, feeling cold and flaming at the same time.

"Touch transfers heat, and friction helps too." He said, inwardly smiling at the way his Japanese friend was blushing and biting his lip as he slowly rubbed his arm up and down the pale torso.

"I-I see." He said, biting his lip harder. Greece turned him around and put a finger on the elder's lip.

"You shouldn't bite your lip, Japan. You could cut it." The smaller man's eyes were fluttering, wanting to close, but being willed open by their owner. Greece gave a smirk before pressing his own lips to Japan's.

"What are you doing?" Japan asked, looking alarmed, but not scooting away in the slightest.

"Well, our goal is to create heat, yes?" He asked, latching his mouth onto Japan's neck and sucking.

"Y-yes." Japan arched his back, rubbing his member against his friend's and gasping at both the sensation and the realization that both of them were hard.

"So then, what creates heat? Friction, right?"

"Ungh, y-yes." He could barely think as the experienced man roamed his hands around his body, stopping to cup an as cheek.

"The let's make friction, Japan." Japan bucked his smaller hips and gasped again and a large hand went to enclose his member, stroking it with varying pressures. He was near tears of pleasure under the skilled ministrations of the Greek, and was digging his nails into the tan back.

"G-Greece." He panted.

"Yes, Japan?" He teased, knowing that the man couldn't express his needs. He was a century-old virgin after all. something Greece had learned when Japan had drunk far too much sake.

Instead of answering, the smaller man just moaned, rubbing his body against the others. Greece moved to be on top of him and moved to nibble his earlobe.

"Will you let me take you, Japan?" He asked, not wanting to do anything that the other didn't want to. Fortunately, Japan was too turned on to say no to anything but stopping, and so he just nodded, gyrating his hips desperately. The larger man sat up, letting out the heat that was supposed to be there goal, but letting Japan get a good look at the God-like body. Tan and well defined with just the right amount of hair to be manly but not a monkey. A moment later, Japan realized that it also gave Greece a full view of him, and covered as much as he could with his arms.

"Don't do that. I want to see you, Japan." He slowly pulled the arms away, and seemed to worship the body underneath him like it was one of his Gods. Japan blushed further, if it was indeed possible by this point, and was surprised when Greece got up all together, telling him to wait their, but not to touch anything.

Japan lay down for a moment, simply trying to figure out if this was a dream. When he decided that it was indeed real, he was left with the question of whether or not Greece was simply doing this for body heat, or if he shared his feelings. Then he decided that at the moment, he didn't care.

When Greece came back, he was holding a bottle of lotion from the bathroom, and was putting a good amount on his hands, more than he could possibly rub in. Japan was wondering what it was for, but he got his answer when a finger rimmed his hole, and he jumped. Greece knew he should ask again, but he'd die if Japan said no, so he went with the initial yes that was already given, unless of course Japan told him to stop, in which case he would.

He pressed the middle finger in slowly, looking at the face of his love contort in a fast array of expressions. He used his other hand to keep the small man focused on his member, rather than the pain as he inserted a second finger. Japan winced anyway, and he moved up to kiss him, trying in every way to distract him. Soon, he was moving against the fingers, not away, and so Greece put in the third and final finger, licking away the small tear that formed in the corner of Japan's closed eye.

"I'm going to continue now Japan." He said, though his voice was raspy and much lower than Japan remembered it being. The elder man simply nodded, and gasped when the larger-than-he-thought member entered his hole, inch by inch until the Greek was balls deep in Japanese uke.

They moved against each other, Greece knowing just where to touch to make his little Japanese groans in pleasure. It wasn't too long before the muscle around him contracted, leaving the hole Greece was pounding into even tighter. He leaned into Japan' ear.

"I love you, Japan." He moaned before Cumming in the tight buttocks of his lover, and falling down beside him.

"Greece, did you mean that?" Greece was tired, but he could always stay awake a little longer for his Love. He pulled up the blankets before answering:

"Of course, Japan. What kind of man do you take me for?" He joked, and Japan smiled, curling up into the chest of his lover.

"I love you too, Greece." He whispered, thinking that the man was already asleep, but for the second time that night, he was wrong, and he was surprised when arms wrapped a little tighter around him, feeling warm and quite comfortable.


End file.
